Protect
by Galimatias
Summary: Family has always been about protecting one another. And until Jack came around, they'd never really been a family. One shots about trials, tribulations and overall fluff when it comes to our favorite childhood guardians and the family they've now become. (Everything from humor to angst. Suggestions are welcomed!)
1. Fall

**Sad to say that this isn't my best work. But it's late and the insparation fairy was banging on my head!**

**I'm going to do one more from Jack's POV! Read and review!**

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Bunnymund was quite aware that the winter spirit was tailing him. Honestly, with ears and a nose like his it was a wonder that Jack believed he could sneak around the Pooka. And he would have turned around and found Jack in a spit second, ready to give his rival a piece of his mind.

But he had work to do. A guardian was always busy, even if he did only have one day of the year specifically set around them.

He was the guardian of Hope after all. Not a particularly easy job.

He had already ventured all throughout Russia, China, Mexico (he was much more partial to that climate) and was now traveling through the familiar town of Burgess. The sun was quickly setting, so he was out of the clear sight of children. Bunny was sure that it wouldn't have mattered – they'd already seen him many times, though he was sure that a few of them (disregarding Jamie) now thought it had been one very confusing and vivid dream created by the Sandman. And if he really didn't want to be seen in broad daylight, then the tunnels would have helped in a pinch.

But it wasn't daylight and most kids were already escaping the cold in order to eat dinner or read with their families. So travel was easy, making his job of spreading hope a relatively non difficult one.

Finished with the main part of the town, he headed through the woods on the border, towards the lake. From their he'd make a tunnel and head up to Canada maybe, and then from there he'd head back to his nice, warm Warren. Or… North hadn't seen him in a while… maybe he'd-

"Hey there, Kangaroo."

Bunny straitened, turning to look at the winter sprite standing on a tree limb, staff in hand, smirking down at him.

"So, fin'ly decided to show your face, eh? Took ya long enough."

"Oh, you knew!?"

"'Course I knew, ya gumby." Bunny turned away from Jack, walking again, towards the lake. He had a schedule to keep. And besides, he knew Frost was just going to follow.

He did.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Jack pranced from branch to branch, short but cold winds whipping against Bunny's form each time the boy's feet left solid structure and became airborne. He shivered, the Warren materializing in his brain. Warm, spring, lots of paint. He'd wanted to test that new design…

"Hey, are you ignoring me?" He shook his head, looking at his minor who now stood in front of him, bare feel sinking into the snow.

"Naw, just thinking." He pushed past Jack and continued on.

Jack, somewhat grateful that the guardian had in fact _not_ been ignoring hi, followed the large Rabbit once more. "So then where are you going."

"To Canada. Maybe. I'm thinkin' 'bout goin' to the Lucky Country."

"Ireland?"

"Australia, ya dill." he grumbled. He squinted through the trees. There was so much snow on the ground from a blizzard he had thankfully missed. He' dbe sure not to comment on it, or it would go strait to Jack's head. The last thing he needed was the younger boy having one more thing to hold against him.

Taking one more look he spotted a few things he recognized. The gnarled tree, the line of thorn bushes and that circle of rocks. If he could only find the small cliff over the lake… It was so snowy everything was blending together.

"Well, I just finished doing my job. By the way, Sophie say's hi. Well. She didn't quite say hi. She just said Easter Bunny hop hop hop. But I guess that's the same thing, right?"

Bunnymund felt something inside him warm up at the mention of the little girls name. He snuffed it out and hid it with a snort in reply. The last thing he needed was Frost thinking he'd gone soft too.

"I think you're her favorite." Jack smirked, "though I sometimes wonder why."

He was baiting him, Bunny knew. So instead he just snorted again. "Frost, where's the lake. I gotta open a portal."

"Why not just open one here?"

It was a good question, but Bunny just shook his head. "Specific place I have to drop off in." _And I can't see if where I'm going with all this bloody snow_, he added to himself. Why did the frostbite seem to get more annoying by the minute? Could he just not leave him alone?

And why all the snow? Why now? It wasn't anything close to '68, but then again nothing even compared to that snag. And in truth, Jack didn't know he'd be traveling through tonight, so it wasn't really his fault. And he was doing his job…

Bunny shook his head. He had to stop sympathizing with Jack. The boy and him clashed so often that it seemed he was beginning to forget that they clashed at all. He was family, and family annoyed you. And in truth, he was rather fond of the sprite. But if he showed that, just once…

It seemed to be that Jack felt the same. But both of them kept it down, or they'd be chasing after their lost ego's for years to come.

So Bunny simply ventured on, listening as Jack continued to follow him. After a few more minutes of silent traveling he realized that Frost was no longer following and let out a content sigh. Finally, he could think.

Looking around once more he tried to spot more familiar landmarks. Through the snow he could just make out the edge of a very low cliff, only about twenty or thirty feet high. So the lake was in his general area. He just had to find the right spot around it. After, of course, he figured out where, under all the piles and piles of snow, the lake was. Testing out his luck he moved forward, failing at smelling anything through the neutral and chilled air.

"Still looking, huh?"

He whirled around. The snow, he cursed, was messing with his senses.

"Get lost, Frostbite."

Jack raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Not on your life, cottontail. You know, it's kinda amusing to see you looking through the snow. One things for sure, you're not a winter."

Bunny growled, hopping along the area, feeling the snow crunch beneath his feet as he did. "For the last time, frost, leave. If ya' haven't noticed, I'm on a tight-"

"Schedule. Geez, I know I know. God, you're always working. Take a break!"

"Not gonna happen, mate." The snow crunched some more. Or was that snow? It vibrated more than snow would. He shrugged it off, continuing. "And 'sides, shouldn't you be working?"

"I am," the younger spirit counteracted, "I'm the guardian of fun. All the kids are inside, so I'm bothering you. That's fun."

"You're a real great guy, aren'tchya?"

"I try."

Bunny hopped a few more steps forward. It was unnerving how much the snow was shifting. "I can tell." He glared up at the spirit while he walked, not even bothering to watch where he was going. "How about you go an' bother North, or somethin'"

"He's busy with work."

"So I'm the next target?"

"You walked to me!" He raised his hands, "that was not my fault."

Bunnymund was having just enough of him at that point. It was cold, he was miserable and to top it off, the Frost kid was messing with his schedule. "You really are a drongo, aren't you? First, you have to live off North. And then you hardly do your job!"

"I'm not living off-"

"I don't see you takin' any responsibility, mate." Jack's glare, which had been so well trained on the guardian of hope just a moment earlier, lessened for a moment. Hurt flashed across his face, eyebrows relaxing and wide blue eyes crinkling. And in a mere moment, it was gone. But Bunny could care less.

"You're hardly doin' your job! I mean, you hardly did anything good before. Blizzard of '68 was enough wasn't it. Now you've got to be a bloody guardian who doesn't do his job! Try spreading something other than fun, mate. Try doin' something that _protects_ someone! Maybe then you'd have more than a handful of kids who can see ya'. Maybe then someone would have a reason' ta b'lieve in ya!"

Bunny knew the words were coming from nowhere, and almost hated himself as soon as they left his mouth. Of course, that almost hate turned genuine when Frost's head drooped in defeat. He didn't even try to banter back, didn't fight any of the acquisitions. He just took it as the truth when it came from his mouth.

Bunny swallowed hard, trying to stanch the feeling of guilt that quickly rose within him. He felt that he should apologize, say it was just because he was cold and annoyed and had a lot of work to do…

Something underfoot cracked. And this time it wasn't snow. He had only about one second to register everything that went on around him. He had been looking for the lake, but he was on it. The ice had been thin, weighed down by the snow. In the time of that one second he saw Jack's face switch from angry sadness into one of pure terror. Jack opened his mouth. He must have shouted his name, but only part of it reached the rabbits ears before he was underwater.

"BUNN-"

Bunny used to be aware of many things. His talent had always been his awareness. Whether is was with his acute sense of smell or hearing. Or simply his ability to be logical. Either way, he was rather proud of those traits. But after he had dropped through the ice all of those skills seemed to simply disaper and he became aware of things he'd never worry about.

He became aware that it was cold.

He became aware that he was alone.

He became aware that he might, at any moment, die.

And then in the next second he felt himself being pulled up back from the dark abyss of murky water, past broken ice covered in soft, deceiving snow. He was ungracefully plopped down on the ice, coughing and spluttering and shaking himself down much like a dog after a bath, part of it from the water and part from the shivering. He shook his head again, trying to rid himself of the temporary panick.

And just like that his head cleared and he was able to register things once again. Sure, he was cold. But he was far from alone, and he couldn't die. He was immortal. In some ways, at least, he was immortal. Either way, it would have taken more than a dip to get rid of him.

He wiped off his eyes and looked around the lake. The hole he'd made wasn't large, but it had been big enough for him to fall through. And right beside it sat Jack Frost. Bunny tilted his head. In all of his years knowing Frost, and he'd in some ways known the boy for a long time, he'd never seen the winter spirit shiver. He was staring down at the water with wide blue eyes. His staff, usually in his hand, had been discarded. Most likely when he dove in to get Bunny. He didn't look wet, though the water must have frozen as soon as he left the water.

Bunny cleared his throat, "Jack? You okay, ma-" Before he could finish he found himself being practically manhandled in the tightest hug he had ever received. Jack, now with his spindly arms wrapped around the rabbit's torso, had buried his face into Bunny's thick, wet fur in an almost desperate attempt to hold onto him. "Jack?!"

"Don't… don't ever, ever go onto the ice without me telling you it's safe!" The boy's voice was tight, and Bunny thought for one moment that he was crying. It was hard to tell. He was already wet, so added tears would make no difference. "You… you c-could have…" There was no need to finish the sentence, the Guardian of Hope knew how it ended.

Gently he tried to pry Jack off of him, and when he found himself unsuccessful he sighed. He was getting colder and colder. The water from the lake was not helping, as was the snow around him. And now, this additional icebox had decided to hold onto him for dear life.

"Jack, mate, I wouldn't have died." Jack didn't respond. "You know that, right?" Still, no response. "Jack, mate, I'm fine! Look'it me!" He finally succeeded in tearing Jack away from him. He was right, the boy had been crying. Frozen tear tracks shone on his face. "You pulled me out. I'm alright! See." For extra measure he grabbed the boys shoulder, showing him that he was indeed there. Jack nodded, but it looked forced. "We're fine. Both of us. Why are'ya so scared! Blimey, Jack, you're shakin' like a leaf!" He was, Bunnmund's paws practically vibrated from the boy's shoulder.

"I was… scared…" Jack looked away quickly. "I didn't want anything to… I guess we're friends and we're supposed to… I wanted to make sure…" Jack looked back up at him, his eyes wide. New tears formed in them. "I had to protect you. You fell first. You shouldn't have fallen first. It was my _job _to protect you and I…"

"Oy! Mate, ya did your job! You did a great job! Look, if this is about what I said, I'm sorry! I never meant it. You know me, I'm a bloody whaker sometimes! I never meant a word of it, Jack. You're… you're a great guardian." Jack shook his head, pusing Bunny's paw off.

"You shouldn't have fallen first."

"But that doesn't even matter! You got me out! Hell, I didn't even think ya'd try after all the stuff I told you! I'm honestly glad you didn't nick off when I told you to!"

"But you said… it was all true…"

"No. It wasn't." Bunny carefully guided himself and the younger man around the hole in the ice, not ready to take another dip in the freezing waters. "Look. I'm sorry. Really. I never meant a word of it, I swear." He crossed his arms, once they had gotten to, what he believed to be, solid ground. "I shoudn't have brought up '68, or all the other things."

"No. It's alright. '68 was a big deal."

"It was one snowstorm, and it was 45 years ago. That's past us."

Jack frowned, looking up at the rabbit that he had admired for so long. "Why?"

Bunny reached out and ruffled his hair. Drops of frozen water fell from it and made small holes in the snow as they fell to the ground. "Cuz that's what friends do."

"Friends?" Jack looked almost mystified.

"Yeah, ya mug." Jack nodded, but he couldn't hide the smile that was forcing itself up his face. "And don't worry 'bout how many kids b'lieve in ya. I'll paint pictures of ya on my eggs this year. Then we'll see how many more you get."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Can I help?"

"Of course."

Jack beamed, and skated quickly across the ice to retrieve his staff, still lying and waiting upon the return of its owner. "By the way, the place your looking for is right there," he shot an icicle into the spot where Bunny had been looking.

"Thanks frostbite."

"No problem."

"No, not for that." He crossed his arms once more, gesturing with his head towards the large break in the ice. "For protecting me."

Jack shrugged. "It was nothing."

"No. it wasn't. It was something a true guardian would've done."

Jack beamed once more, and nodded again to his senior, how was already gaining entrance to a hole in the ground. When the tips of his ears disappeared and the hole once again closed up, Jack called to the wind and was taken away towards wherever he wanted. Maybe he'd visit Jamie and tell him that he'd finally saved someone. Or maybe he wouldn't.

He knew, and that seemed to count for enough.

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North had never been so astounded in his life when, at the next meeting, Bunny and Frost sat right next to eachother. No. He was even more astounded when, during the entire stay at the pole, the only fight that they had was obviously a play one, and the most they did was jest. They even managed to have one whole conversation.

No.

The most surprised he'd been was when he'd walked into the kitchen and found Jack and Bunny sitting in compete silence, the two of them bent in concentration over eggs, paintrushes in hands. When they'd left, North had gone back to inspect exactly what had been done.

One egg had been left behind. Obviously it had been Bunny's work, no one had artistic skills like that rabbit. What was stranger was the design painted on the egg.

Snow flakes and a small picture of Jack himself, balancing on his staff. In letters drawn to look like frost on a window, directly underneath the picture were the words;

_Believe in a Guardian_

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__**Not my favorite ending. But again, it's late! **

**See you all soon!**


	2. Impaling Teddy Bears

**Thanks so much for all the positive feedback guys! As you can tell by the change in the description, I've changed the entire idea of the fic. Now instead of being a twoshot it's going to be a bunch of oneshots based around the theme of either Protection of Family, which I guess in this catagory (ROtG) go kinda hand in hand! DOnt worry, I'll do the second part to what I started. I'm just trying out different ideas here and there!**

**I TAKE SUGGESTIONS! DO YOU WANT TO SEE SOMETHING? TELL ME AND I WILL DO IT! PLEASE DONT HESITATE TO ASK!**

**Now that I'm done screaming that, I'll get right to the next chapter! Sorry I'm not reviewing reviews. I know I always do... but it's 11:45 and I'm ready to sleeeeep!**

**Peace! **

**And dont forget to review! And leave suggestions! But especially review! **

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"Oy! Frostbite! Get down here!"

"No. Go away."

"I'm not leaving ya'lone here."

"Why not," the words were cold, but not particularly spiteful, "you've done it for three hundred years. Why start now?" Bunny tried to keep his face from revealing how directly the words had hit home. His ears took care of that, and he felt them settle against the back of his head. Silently, he cursed his expressive appendages.

He crossed his arms, forcing his ears back into the air. "Well, you're going to have to get used to not bein' 'lone. Before the end'a today, either North or myself's gonna talk to ya. So either you choose one'a us ta tell ya off, or we'll both set ya down for a nice long chat." Bunny advanced to the tree. "'S your choice. Who's it gonna be?"

"No one," Jack turned his head away, "Leave me alone."

"I already told ya-"

"I can fly away. You won't be able to catch me if I'm up there."

Bunny paused, glaring up at the winter sprite. "I may not like the slay, Frostbite, but I ain't against using it if it means draggin' your sorry butt down 'ere."

"Not if you can't find me."

"You'll have to come down at some point."

"No. I'll live in the clouds and make it snow from there."

"And when Jamie want's to see ya?" Jack was silent and Bunny smirked, knowing that he'd won. "You're not gonna win this, mate. Just take what's comin' at you."

Jack was silent for a few moments longer, his back slouching farther down the textured bark of the tree. His knees curled in tighter towards his body, arms lying against them and staff in hand. Bunny didn't even bother taking the precious item away. Sure, it allowed Jack to fly. But after that he doubted the teenager would be going anywhere. What good would it do? Then: "Who's going to talk to me?"

"Me or North."

"Is North mad about the toys."

Bunny looked up. "Yes. Not furious, but he's not happy." He wandered over to a large rock by the lake and sat down, "he'll always go easier on you than I will though."

"I ruined three hundred toys."

"Four hundred, actually. We counted after you left." Jack flinched, and Bunnymund didn't miss it.

It had been an accident. He hadn't meant to start that ice storm in the main toy room of the factory. He'd just gotten overly excited when he'd peeked at the list. He'd made the good list. He'd gotten far too excited and before he knew it little red robots were covering the floor along with a few guitars and some very sad looking teddy bears. All destroyed, either by shattering or being impaled with icicles. He'd left after both North and Bunny had come into the room. He hadn't given them a chance to do anything, he'd just turned and scampered out.

He doubted he'd stay on the 'nice' list for much longer.

"It was a lot of toys." Jack looked down at some frost collecting on the tree, waiting for Bunny's response.

"It was."

"It'll take a long time to fix them all."

"It will."

"I've probably set him back."

"Most likely."

Jack swallowed. "And I absolutely have to talk to one of you? Can't I talk to Tooth? Or Sandy?"

"No and definitely not. But nice try." Bunny leaned back on the rock, taking one of his boomerangs out and beginning to shine it with a greased cloth from his pack. "Please. No rush. I've got nothin' ta do t'day. And North already's got a speech planned." Jack winced again, his mind already beginning to assume the harsh words coming from the Russian man's mouth.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?" he continued to wipe down the weapon, checking it for some imaginary chips.

"Have a speech planned?"

Bunny smirked, running the cloth once more over the surface of the boomerang, but not looking up at Jack, "No."

"... but you're..." Jack struggled to find a word, finally settling on, "...harsh-er."

Bunnymund chuckled, putting his flying weapon away on his back once more. "Think of me as a band aid, Frostbite. I always say my part and move on. Might sting at first, but when it's over, it's over."

Jack finally looked down, uncertain. For a moment he even looked like a child. His voice got quiet, dejected."Will you yell?"

"I might." He rose from the rock. "I have a habit of doin', that." He crossed his arms, one eyebrow raised, "but you should know that by now."

Jack was silent for another few minutes, looking down at his lap. His vision was quickly blurring and his hand gripped on his staff tightly, his already white knuckles turning white, his back sinking farther against the tree, willing him to stay where he was, where it was safe and out of reach from the world. That's where it was safe, after all. Three hundred years had proved that.

… but now things were different. At least, he'd hoped they were. Now he'd gone and messed it all up. He always did that. Messed it all up.

He swallowed hard, willing the blur in his vision to disappear, but it refused. His throat was tight, and it was hard to force out the words he didn't want to come. "Will you hate me afterwords..."

He merely glanced at Bunny, willing himself to take the answer like a man, but found that he couldn't, and quickly looked away, dreading the answer.

"No." It had taken a moment, but it was pleasantly surprising. "No."

THough the answer was one Jack hadn't expected it did nothing to stanch the fear that he was right, that maybe after this he'd go back to being hated. By everyone. But by Bunnymund? The Guardian he'd looked up to since he'd been a little kid searching for eggs, the one he'd tried to grab the attention of with a storm that got out of control... that caused a stupid rivalry to grow...

He almost wanted to say that he'd rather have North tell him what he deserved to hear but stopped himself. But he just nodded instead and stood up shakily, allowing the wind to float him toward the ground until his toes finally landed in the fluffy snow. He walked a few feet forward until he stood in front of the Guardian, now towering over him, arms crossed and green eyes void of emotion. Jack shrunk under the gaze, feeling even smaller, and clutched his staff to his chest refusing to look up.

"So I guess that means I get the priv'lege, huh? Lucky me. I would've chosen North." Bunny shrugged, "But it's your choice."

Jack didn't say anything, he just tried to stand his tallest and get ready for the tongue lashing of his life.

"You really screwed up, ya know that." _There it was. Just like Bunny to get strait to the point._ Bunny let the first sentence sink in before really beginning. "You're a real drongo, ya know that? Honestly, how could'ya have been such'a dill? Ya ruined 400 toys, and not just anyone's toys. Santa's toys. A few weeks away from one'a the most widespread hol'day's in the world. You're lucky it ain't a normal fac'try, or else lots'a kids would be without presents this year. And it'd be no one elses fault but yours."

Jack swallowed, nodding and trying to hold back tears. God, why did Bunny always have to be right?

"And you weren't even brave 'nuf ta face the music from the start. Why was that, Frostbite? Scared to see what was comin' your way. Let me tell you, it's alot worse when'ya let it sit. 'Cause now the yeti's have ta work overtime just ta get'em all fixed, and the person that broke it all wasn't there to do nothin about it. Why did ya leave anyway, Frostbite? And don't say it was 'cause it was another one'a your tricks. What ya did was cowardly. Not enough of a guardian ta' even take what ya deserve."

"It was an accident." How he found his voice again, he didn't know. It was small, but Bunny's ears heard it. Instead of interrupting with more the rabbit stopped and waited for Jack to continue. He shuffled his bare feet in the snow and wiped at his eyes, now curtained with white hair. "I just... got exited. I finally got on the list. The... the nice list. Y'know? And I'd been waiting a long time to be on that list. And I finally made it, and then I got excited... and did that."

"You impaled teddy bears over a name on a list?"

"It was an accident!" he rubbed at his eyes again. "I was just... really happy! And then I impaled teddy bears and robots and other stuff and knew that... now I'm back on the naughty list and everybody hates me. I didn't want to be there when everyone hated me... so I left. I just thought that you'd have nothing to do with me anyway. So I left." He was practically hugging the shepherd's staff and his chest hurt from holding in tears. "I finally started getting used to it..."

"Getting used to what?" There was hardly sympathy in his tone.

Jack felt a few wet tracks fix themselves on his face and he didn't bother to wipe them away. There was no point. "... _being part of a family_..." it was whispered so low that he hardly heard it, but he doubted that Bunny had missed it. And by the silence in front of him he mentally confirmed his previous thought. "I finally got a family. And then I screwed it up. I always screw it up."

There was more silence, and Jack prepared himself to hear the affirmative, to be banished from their little "group" and to go start a storm somewhere where he was actually wanted.

"You don't always screw up." Jack's eyes widened and he lifted his head, just slightly. He found himself looking directly into emerald green eyes. Bunnymund had kneeled in front of him, matching their heights eye to eye and taking away some of the intimidation factor. "You screw up sometimes, but that doesn't make ya' a screw up. We all screw up, that's what we do. Sometimes we do things that ain't exactly very... guardian like. I have tens of stories I can tell ya 'bout North that'd shock ya ta next year. I screw up too." The last part was said with some difficulty and jack found himself smiling lightly through his silent sniffles. "Our biggest screw up though..." he swallowed, "was you. We shouldn't have done what we did, leavin' ya'lone like that. 300 hundred years ain't right. You're right bout that. And we're gonna regret it f'rever."

Bunnymund sighed, "the point is, Jack, you're gonna screw up. And yer gonna have ta face the consequences for it. And that's just what bein' in a fam'ly is all about. You ain't used to it, Frostbite, but this is part'a bein' in a family. Good and bad. And when ya left today... we were worried. Sometimes ya leave and it takes weeks ta find ya'gain. Well, worried and angry. But mostly worried," he chuckled, "you've gotta way of makin' us confused like that."

But you've gotta know, that no matter how many teddy bears you impale with icicles, you're gonna be part'a our family. And we... we love'ya no matter how many teddy bears and robots you destroy."

Jack blinked, his breath hitching in his throat. Had he heard right? "What... what did you say?"

Bunnymund shifted, uncomfertable, but finally succembed to the pressure of the wide, watery, saphire eyes. "I said that... we love ya... even me..."

They loved him. The concept was so foreign that Jack almost felt dizzy for a moment. Three hundred years of being devoid of all contact and now all of a sudden he had a family that _loved_ him. _Him_! He didn't really know what came over him, but next thing he knew he'd wrapped his cold arms around Bunny's neck, almost wanting to never let go.

Bunny was stunned for a moment, and he felt the Pooka tense under his grip. But then arms encircled him as well. In didn't last long and he was soon being pushed off. "Alright, alright, 'nuff with the mushy stuff already." The rabbit straitened, brushing down his fur and looking down at the winter sprite beaming up at him with snow white teeth. He snorted. "You really are something else, y'know that?"

Jack just wiped off his face once more and nodded.

"Right then, I think I'm done here. We can go back and tell North that you ain't gonna be runnin' 'way from us anytime soon. And that yer helpin' fix the toys."

"What!?"

"Oh yeh! You didn't think this was it, did'jya?"

"I was hoping!"

He shrugged. "Well, as the guardian of hope, I'm tellin' you ta abandon it. Yer gonna be working overtime with Phil for a few days."

"Aw! Not Phil! He hates me!"

"He doesn't hate ya, Frostbite." Bunny motioned for him to follow and he did so, sulking. "he just's gotta eye on you'sall."

"Fabulous."

Bunny chuckled, walking along through the woods. He had to spread a few eggs in Sophie's yard. THough it was far from easter, the girl had won her first peewee soccer tournament, and he figured she deserved that much.

"Hey Bunny?" He grunted in response, trying to remember where it was so he could actually open a tunnel. "I love you too. All of you. Just in case you didn't know." Bunnymund stopped and looked back at the boy, standing behind him. Instinct told him to deflect the words with something teasing, but somehow that instinct died and he found himself ruffling Jack's hair, taking pleasure in watching him smile widely at the response.

"And yer stuck with us for a long time." Jack smiled along, walking faster beside him now. "And Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I made sure North didn' change anything. You're still on the nice list. And congratulations by the way. Ya d'serve it."

Jack didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky.

And somehow he decided that 300 years of waiting was suddenly totally worth it.

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**I know, I have a lot of spelling issues. But thats because I have no beta! AAAH! NO BETA!**

**If anyone here is a spelling'grammer nazi and wants to read the copius amounts of junk I will most likely send you, please, by all means, offer your services! **

**LOL, that probobly just turned everyone away from that... **

**Anyway, read and review!**

**AND SUGGESTIONS PEOPLE! I LOVES 'EM!**

**~Gal**


	3. Jumper Part 1

**This one is a short one, people. Kind of an intro though for the next chapter or possibly the next two. Strangely though its an idea I have never seen done before. Everyone assumes that Jack is the only one that gets hurt! So... it was time to switch the tables!**

**This was a request from _Shizuku Tsukishima_ who said: **

**"I'd request a chapter (or two, maybe one for each) of North and/or Bunny being protective of Jack (Either against Pitch or anything else)!"**

**Well ****_Shizuku Tsukishima, _here is your request filled out! But even more so! This may turn out to be a three shot if I so choose, plenty of Bunny protecting Jack! And some North in there as well!**

**I'm still going through requests, people! I have the next two picked out, so look out for your in the next few days! Most likely most of the requests will be answered on here! SO DONT WORRY! I WILL GET TO AAAALL OF THEM! What may happen is I'll fill out a different request tomorow and then to Jump part 2 right after that! I'll get more of a range that way!**

**thanks for your support! **

**~Gal**

* * *

Bunnymund had always been a jumper.

Technically, one might have called him a hopper, since he did an awful lot of that in his lifetime. But really, he was a jumper. He always was, and he always would be.

He jumped to chase down eggs in order to paint them. He jumped through his magical tunnels from one place on the globe to another. He jumped in order to catch boomerangs and to entertain Sophie, who'd sit on his back and hang onto his ears.

He was, and always would be, a jumper.

But he never told others that. He never told North. He never told Tooth. He never told Sandy. And he especially never told Jack. Ever. They'd tell him he was insane, say that it was ridiculous and the idea had to be banished from his head. It wasn't an idea though. People believed, with their deepest of beliefs, that being a jumper was a state of mind. It wasn't.

A jumper was just part of you. You were born and jumper and you died a jumper.

But rarely was there ever a need to jump.

Rarely doesn't mean never.

It was during another battle with Pitch. True to his last words, Fear itself could never be banished, and so Fear had returned. His target of choice had been the Bahama's, for some strange reason. Bunny had doubted that the reason was for the sun and the surf. And he'd been right.

Twenty minutes into the battle, a fierce and fast paced battle it was, Jack had begun to slowly expire. Sweat beading on his brow, internal temperature rising far above what any winter spirit ever should be. Exhaustion was painted onto his face, a Monet of pain and fear masked with what determination the boy had left.

"Jack! Get... mph... down here, ya... urg... show pony! Ya have ta'... take a time out!" He'd yelled at the spirit, battling with the Nightmare King, between the throws of each boomerang, nighmare creaturs bursting with each blow.

Jack, true to his nature, refused to listen. One of his most irritating traits. And the more he refused to listen, the more exhausted he became. But just like Jack, he never wanted to quit.

"Jack!" He'd tried in vain to call the spirit one last time.

Jack, finally deciding that he'd try one last stratagy, had seized all of his power into one mighty blow, one icy stream that shot from his staff at magnificent force...

...and was deflected by Pitch like he'd been swatting a fly.

Jack had slumped, still conscious, waiting for the energy to flow back into him as he hovered in the encouraging wind. Unfortunately, Pitch never wanted to allow him the chance to recuperate. Instead, he'd drawn his hand back in a gesture Bunny was all too familiar with.

Tooth had seen it, screaming. North, busy fighting a nightmare, heard Tooth and turned, shouting his own warning toward Jack, too far away to offer any other kind of help. Sandy had been ready to lash out with whips, snaking them backward. But even the look in his eyes said, 'not enough time'.

Jack had seen it too. Bunny watched Jack's eyes open, wide with realization when he saw the arrow, sparkling with the poisoned dreams of frightened children, pointing right towards him, sharp as the smile Pitch was delivering. He watched as Jack tried to menouver his beaten body, tried to make it obey his wish to move. And he watched as his body refused.

Bunnymund had always been a jumper. He was, and always would be, a jumper.

So Bunnymund did what he did best.

He jumped.

The last thing he felt was an arrow. And the last thing he heard was Jack's scream.

It wasn't a choice that he made. No. It was an action that he'd taken because it's just what he was. You were born and jumper and you died a jumper. But rarely was there ever a need to jump. You only jumped, only ever really jumped, when there was a reason to.

There had been a reason too.

Bunnymund had jumped to protect Jack.

And that was reason enough.


	4. Insomnia

_**Seph's Madisen Moss! This one's yours!**_

**I loved your ideas so much, I honestly couldn't choose. I went with the first idea but will most likely be going with the second some time soon-ish! She wanted the Guardians to find out that Jack had been given nightmares by Pitch before he became a Guardian! So... here it is!**

**Oh, and this was not beta'd because I just HAD to be an idiot and put this up now. It was just... gah... I had to. So sorry ****_Shizuku Tsukishima! _I swear, the next one comes strait to you!  
**

******Oh, and to those wondering, yes the next part of Jump is coming! I'm taking my time on those since they are coherent! THE NEXT ONE WILL MOST LIKELY BE JUMP PART 2! **

**Ok guys, here's the deal! I'd like to thank everyone who volenteered their services as a beta! Thanks so much! I have chosen** **_Shizuku Tsukishima _as my beta. However, I will be, if it's okay with you guys, possibly begging for help beta-ing as well. If I am filling a request for someone and that person is also looking over my work I dont like them to see their chapters! I mean, how unfair are the amount of spoilers! No no no no no! Not allowed!**

**Thanks so much for all the reviews! Agh, I'm awful... usually I like to review the reviews, but this time I just haven't gotten to it!**

**Guys, get out your dictionaries! This one has words that even I didn't understand at first. I looked up the most fluid words I could find. If anyone knows what "seraglio" means off the top of their head... you're a friggen genious!**

**And PLEASE send in more requests! I need some more meat, peeps!**

**~Gal**

* * *

Sandy noticed many things. One reason for this may have been his silent nature, doing more observing than talking. He'd never liked to talk anyway. He supposed that it was a best case scenario that he'd turned out the metallic color he had. Silence, after all, was golden. And so from his perch on his sand cloud he simply observed the world and it's people. And 'people' was not limited to the mortals of the world either. Semi-Immortals, after all, were alive, even if their time was more extended. And they deserved dreams as much as the next person.

And this included the seen as well as those who were not.

Jack was one who was not.

Sandy had known Jack to be rather close to his new family, but the two of them shared a history. It seemed he was the only one who had ever regarded the Frost boy as anything at all. North always had always sent his yeti's to take care of the situation, and Sandy was fairly sure that before Pitch rose again the Russian man had spoken to Frost twice, both conversations limited to a few brief sentences. Tooth was always too busy at her palace, and the ones who flitted past were her mini fairies, though they never stuck around for long. Once in a while one of them would swoop down to peck his cheek, but was gone before he even got a look at what had stuck him.

Bunny was the only other one that regarded his presence as a real one. A really annoying one, that is. The two butted heads every fifty years or so, and after that were left in a silent and tense standstill until the next time approached.

So in reality Sandy was the only one left. And he used this to his advantage. Whatever the others didn't give, he gave. Attention, affection and, his specialty, good dreams.

Or, at least, he tried to give him good dreams. It was strange that way. Jack and Sandy got along fabulously. Whenever he appeared, ready to spread dulcet dreams into the heads of every child below he'd make sure to give Jack something entertaining. Most nights it was a dolphin, an evanescent image of a graceful sea creature that nudged Jack playfully, arching its back and swimming through cold air. Gone in an instant, leaving traces of gold dust on the boys pale skin.

Jack's joy would always be fugacious though, as many times Sandy would try to put the child to sleep, try to give him good dreams of his own. He could tell that the spirit needed it. He was alone, believed that his he was destined to always be alone. He was hurt and constantly hurting. Sandy had seen it before, and had always taken pride in given children with terrible lives when awake some place to go in sleep. The solution was no way sempiternal, and would end every morning when the sun rose over the horizon. But until then, he'd offer both the children, and Jack, the seraglio they deserved.

The problem was, Jack never wanted it.

His golden sand, labyrinthine round the winter sprite, would never reach its target without a fight. Jack's face, so innocent moments before, would harden and he'd attempt to swat away the sand. Many times, after a vicious battle, the sand would reach its target, tapping Jack lightly on the face and sending the spirit into a drunken haze as he tried to fight its effect. In the end he would finally sleep, but the battle between then and now was what always worried Sandy.

Why would anyone fight happiness? Dreams were the ultimate happiness. They were quintessential to existence, what kept people hoping and believing. They were something you could be sure of. And for a person such as Jack, who couldn't even count on something as inevitable as death, dreams may have been all he had to liven his seemingly meaningless existence.

Who would refuse that?

It was one night in mid February when Sandy decided to find out for himself. He'd delivered dreams faster than usual, taking care to reach every child, but skipping his usual show of golen tentacles, simply waving a sheet of sand over every town he'd passed. The last one he had visited was Jack.

The teen had been sitting on a tree branch by what Sandy had come to think of as "his lake". The one place Jack was always sure to return to without a doubt. His lake.

Jack hadn't heard the silent creatures descent from his cloud, eyes fixated on frozen water. So when his vision was suddenly masked with soothing dust he hardly had time to resist.

"Sandy, NO! I don't wa-a-a-a-" His last word drooped and soon after soon did his body, slumping down onto the tree. Small scenes of Jack sledding played above his head, an unknown little girl beside him. Sandy would ask about that later. Until then he waited.

He didn't have to wait long.

As if pulled by gossamer threads, a black ripple drew itself from the riparian, it's mass susurrous, making sounds like sand through an hourglass. It was indeed sand, but it was not contained.

The mass pooled upward, twisting and winding itself into a pilar before adding in the details. It raveled together, and soon had created a person, a lithe figure that Sandy knew very well. His equal and his opposite. His other that finished the panoply of dream givers. The nightmares to his dreams.

Ptich.

Sandy glared.

**_?_**

"Why am I here?" Pitch smiled, sharp teeth glinting, "for the boy of course. I come here every time he sleeps."

Sandy's gaze turned toward Jack, shifting slightly, the presence of the nightmare king not going unknown. The gold above his head now held a penumbra. **_?_** he signed once again over his head.

"Because, old friend, he has fear. This is my line of work. Step aside."

The next sign over his head was a circle, a diagonal line cast through.

"No?" The smile tightened, but did not fall. "Why ever not? I'm here so often, he knows me. He's never met me. But he does know me. And he'll continue to know me."

Sandy shook his head, pointing toward the spot Pitch had come.

"I'm not leaving."

A nod.

"No. I'm not. The boy is afraid to sleep, Sandy. Because of me. Really it is delightful, so much fear from one person. It's more than I get in one night from any of the other precious children you send to dreamland. Really, it is adorable." Pitch paced forward, but Sandy shot him a warning look, a ball of sand already forming in his palm. Pitch stepped back, palms facing front. Surrender.

"Now now, old friend, no need to get violent." His smile aimed itself like an arrow and Sandy would have growled had he had a voice to growl with. "The solution is simple. Don't let him sleep."

Don't let him sleep. It was the simplest solution. An answer that would solve all problems. Would make sure that Jack had so much less to fear, that he'd never fear the sand tendrils again. He'd once more be a lilt spirit. No more fear...

… But … dreams were all that Jack had. He didn't have any of the other Guardians beside him. He'd never even had Sandy, in some ways. Taking away dreams, no matter if they were forced unto him or not, would be like taking a child from it's teddy bear. The last shred of hope gone from the world when one had no where to escape to.

Jack needed the escape.

But this escape no longer existed. Not when Pitch was around.

Sandy formed another ball in his hands and glared at the nightmare creature. Pitch tensed, but then seemed to realize that he'd have no chance of winning the fight anyway. And so he'd shrugged, gave a mock bow, and slithered back into the shadows.

Sandy watched over Jack the rest of the night, giving him the best dream he'd ever had. It would, after all, be his last.

Jack had dreamed of little girls, ice skates and lakes that stayed solid.

Sandy still didn't understand. And, as he watched the Golden Jack spin the Golden girl in his arms, laughing and throwing her lightly into the air, he wondered if he ever would.

* * *

"Pack it in, frostbite." Bunnymund stretched his sore muscles, bones cracking with satisfied pops as he extended his spine. God how he hated the slay. He'd jumped and rolled off it twice in one day just to take down a few nightmares. And now his muscles hurt like hell.

"I'll just head back to the lake." Jack shrugged, pulling his hood over his hair, "It's late anyway. And I was thinking about a snow day tomorow."

"Jack, eets late. Why you not just stay here? I made room for you, deed I not?" North had made a room. His first room in three hundred years. With a dresser and a table and a bed.

Jack still had yet to use the bed.

"It's fine. I'll stay next time." North looked almost hurt, but didn't say anything. You never could push it with Jack. Most likely, you ended up pushed away faster if you tried. "I'm not that tired."

"You're a bloody liar." Jack's head whipped toward Bunny, standing with his arms crossed. "Ya just kicked the sand out'a half'n army 'a nightmares. You're bloody slouchin'. And seriously, Frosty, are ya' plannin' on carrying anything in those bags?" he motioned to the dark circles hanging like stockings underneath Jack's eyes.

Jack scowled. "I'm fine."

"Jack!" Tooth flitted over, "Just get some rest! You can always make a snow day the day after! Jamie won't mind, I'm sure!"

"I'm fine." He made a move to turn and leave, but was stopped by a paw on his shoulder. "Naw mate. You're goin' ta sleep."

"I don't-"

"Bed. Now." The tone from Bunny was one Jack had never heard before but was becoming more and more frequent. Authoritative and parental. "Go on," he motioned with his head, ears bobbing, "off ya' pop."

Jack's arms crossed, and he looked ready to say something else, but a loud jangling interrupted his train of thought. Sandy stood behind them all, steam flowing from his ears and a nauseous elf in his hand. He motioned to the Guardians, who all gave him looks.

He formed a picture over his head. The four of them together, huddled, Jack on the sidelines.

"You wish to speak to us?" North, looked down on the now nodding man. "Wit'out Jack?" Nodding again.

"You," Bunny pointed at Jack as he moved to follow the others farther across the room, "stay."

Jack huffed, but he did stay.

"So what you are saying to us," North checked back on the boy, amusing himself by kicking his staff with his foot repeatedly, "ees that he ees scared of sleep?"

Nod.

"Vhy?"

A picture of pitch floated above his head, just a silouette of the mans head was enough to guess what had occurred.

"Pitch gave Jack nightmares?" Tooth's eyes, large as saucers, got even larger. "Oh, poor Jack! How long had he gotten these?"

Sandy placed his two hands in front of them, palms faced toward each other, and forced them closer until they stood a few inches apart.

"Not that long?" Her feathers ruffled. "Then why be scared?"

"Maybe Frostbite had a nightmare recen'ly?" Bunny scoffed, "Never took him to be the coward type..."

Sandy shook his head, another painting affixed above his plethora of hair. A boy standing far from a bed, arms crossed. The boy stamped his foot on the ground, stubborn. He would not approach the bed.

Bunny's brow furrowed. "When was the last time he got any sleep?"

The next thing was neither a picture nor a hand gesture. Just a few numbers that floated above his head.

**250**

"Two hundred an' fifty bloody years?!" The reaction from Bunny caused his voice to rise and the rest of them shushed as Jack looked on suspiciously. "Sorry. But really? That long?" He scratched his head. "So ee's scared ta sleep. What're we s'posed ta do bout that?"

"Well..." Tooth fluttered higher, fingers looping together. "Kids usually go to parents and sleep with them when they're scared..."

"Yeah, but we ain't his parents."

"We are family," North insisted, looking to the snow spirit, "And we must act like one."

"Fine, whatever, but what about how we're gonna get 'im near a bed. Let 'lone find a way ta keep a'lla us near 'um."

North considered it for a moment before smiling. "I have idea!"

* * *

"Everyone have blanket? Bunny? You have? Yes! Good! Tooth, you take pillow. Yes, faries weel be fine. No! Fingers out of mouth. Yeti's weel bite you! Stop eet right- No, Sandy, thees ees no deescusion, you stay away from elves. And Jack, stay away from fire please, I have no need to mop puddle."

They had followed North's directions, dragging Jack towards one of the rooms in North's workshop. A living room of sorts, large carpets and couches situated on the floor, a giant fireplace crackled and hissed on the wall. Bookshelves touched the impossibly high ceiling. Outside a storm was just letting up, snowflakes falling soft and large.

Jack had been rather nervous at first when he'd been told he would be sleeping. He'd tried to scuttle away, but a large hand had clamped onto his shoulder and his staff, much to his distress, was yanked from his grasp by Bunny, who told him he'd place it somewhere within reach, but away from him.

Blankets had been handed out to those who requested them, pillows then distributed. A fire had been lit in the massive hearth. Tooth and Sandy had immediately scrambled to the inglenook, North had found a spot on the rug farther away from the head. Jack had stepped a bit farther, and surprisingly Bunny had followed. Usually first to claim a spot closest to heat, he'd instead parked himself next to Jack and grabbed a few extra blankets for himself. When asked later on he denied doing it out of affection, though they'd all seen the lengths taken in order to stay in that spot and keep "Frostbite" company.

The hardest part of the night was convincing Jack to lie down and relax. The boy insisted over and over again that he didn't have to sleep, didn't want to sleep. So they gave him the option. Either he lie down and shut up, or Sandy would slap him. Either way, they'd get the result they were looking for.

Jack had decided to go against Sandy on this one, instead just lying down. His form shaky and his hands practically vibrating, he'd twisted his fingers through a thin sheet that had been draped over him, courtesy of North, and waited for the nightmares to come.

They had, after all, always come. That's why he'd stopped sleeping in the first place.

"Frostbite," Bunny, from beside him, a few feet away with an arm draped over his eyes, peeked over, "you're shakin' like a bloody maraca. Calm down. You don't 'ave ta be scared!"

"I'm not scared..."

"And two hundred fifty years aint proof of that, mate?"

"Do not worry," North lifted himself on an elbow, "we are all here. And we'll be here in morning too! No worries! Right!" Tooth had chirped an affirmative while Sandy offered a thumbs up.

Jack had nodded, lying back down.

It hit him fast, the idea of fatigue. So long had he gone without sleep, always scared of nightmares, of drowning and losing and missing, that he'd forgotten what tired felt like. He just avoided it at all costs. No sleep meant no fear, and no fear was good.

But now, head on a pillow, it all caught up. His head spun and his eyes fluttered against their will. Stop it, he commanded, but his body had decided otherwise. And before he could object, he had fled into a black abyss of sleep.

But no nightmares came.

He'd woken only once during the night when the fire popped. His head shot up and his hand went to smooth down his now very messy hair. Head still spinning from sleep deprivation, Jack had taken a quick sweep of the room. True to their word, all the Guardians were still sound asleep in the room. Tooth snored softly, combatting North's loud gurgling. Sandy didn't make noise, but small pictures changed constantly over his brow. He turned to look next to him. Bunnymund muttered quietly in his sleep, nose twitching and ears expressing something. Every so often his feet would twitch, much like a dog running through their dreams.

All of them together, in the room. Banishing nightmares through the comfort of family and the idea of sticking together. Protecting one another from the bad dreams of the night. Family. A real family.

It was strange, he realized, how much life had changed. He finally could sleep. He finally had a reason to banish fear. And he finally had good dreams.

But it seemed to him that he didn't even need the good dreams.

Reality, it would seem, was in fact better.

* * *

**NEXT CHAPTER: JUMP PART 2**

**WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO BUNNY? TUNE IN SOON TO FIND OUT!**

**Thanks again to my amazing beta ****_Shizuku Tsukishima!_****You're awesome!**


	5. Jumper Part 2

**(gets ready to duck from heavy flying objects)**

**Ok, so this is just PART 2 of _Shizuku Tsukishima_'s request, which I like to call _Jumper_. Here it is! Long awaited!**

**And god are you gonna hate me after this.**

**Let me just say, before anything else, that there _is _going to be a part 3 and a part 4. SO PLEASE DONT THROW OBJECTS THAT ARE TOOOOO HEAVY! A cabinet is suitable over a staircase... or a stove...**

**Thanks to all my amazing readers and commenters! You all are awesome and I wish I could thank you all individually! But... it's too late for that! I'll try to accomplish that in the next few chapters! Just a shoutout to each and every one of you! So expect that to come at some point or another!**

**I'd also like to thank mjbaerman! You are AMAZING! She was my beta for this chapter since I refused to give it to Shizuku! Seriously! Who would give someone their own request to beta!**

**No way! BTW, Shizuku, I hope you like this!**

**And a quick last minute note. You'll notice that there is no quotations or any puntuation that would give any expression to anything here. There is a reason for that! MAKE UP YOUR OWN TONE OF VOICE, PEOPLE! I'M LETTING YOU DECIDE BASED ON YOUR OWN FORM OF EMOTION? Kinda like, how would you react in the situation or how would Jack sound to you? It's a trick I find makes the writing a lot more effecting becuase the readers can decide!**

**Now...**

**ONTO THE CHAPTER!**

_BTW... WANNA REALLY RIP YOUR HEART OUT? LOOK UP THE SONG "SAFE AND SOUND" BY THE CIVIL WARS... SEE WHAT HAPPENS THEN... I'M SO CRUEL..._

* * *

_"A friend who dies, it's something of you who dies."_

_~Gustave Flaubert_

* * *

Jack knew that he was down for the count when he allowed every bit of his energy to leave him in one blast of ice. It must have not been powerful enough. Above him, through his hair, he could see Pitch, hear Pitch, laughing. An arrow already forming and ready to strike.

He heard other things too. Tooth and North and Bunny... He didn't hear Sandy, but why would he. And really, all the rest of it was hardly audible. He was just so tired. All he wanted was to curl up in a snowbank and sleep forever. The cuts on his arm burned and his heart was throbbing wildly, begging to be slowed. His own breathing, harsh and rapid, was all that he could hear through the chaos.

He felt bad for giving up.

Really, he truly felt bad. But he just couldn't go on. And they'd be fine without him. They'd helped the children of the world for three hundred years, after all. They'd worked without him for that long, what would a few more years do. And besides, he could always be replaced. He almost giggled, thinking of Bunny's reaction when MiM would choose the groundhog. But it didn't seem like a good time for humor, so he didn't.

It wouldn't matter. They'd let this happen. He was sure that they cared, at least a little, about him and his well being. But just like a good friend leaving or a pet passing on, you were affected and then you moved on. They would move on. They had to move on.

The arrow was taut, ready to plunge down and rip through darkened skies, skin and bone, hope and fun and wonder-

He heard the whip of needle meeting air. Eyes shut tight, wind racing in his ears begging for him to move, to do anything...

A shift of the air around him, a mass breaking through his air pocket, and a dull cry allerted him that something was off. Opening his eyes he was met with the faraway face of a very annoyed Pitch. He touched his chest, arm raising itself with effort. Nothing.

The wind around him swirled, torn between mothering him and telling him just what had happened. It's confusion was settled by the cries of the others, pointing down. Anger and fear and alarm. He followed their fingers with quick precision and found himself looking at...

Bunny...

Falling down like he was creating a snow angel, arms and legs dangling toward the ground, head leaned backward, ears flapping up in the wind. He didn't look scared, though Jack knew the anthropomorphic rabbit's fear of heights ran deep. He looked almost calm, relaxed. His face just releasing it's bunched up state of pain as everything else abandoned ship to make way for sweet unconsciousness.

The arrow intended for Jack buried deep in his chest.

Where the strength had come from he'd never know. But there it was, surging through every vein in his body. Dry ice and white heat, sprinting through his blood and into his chest. He'd let out a cry, he was sure he had. Something that made no sense, and was most likely not a word at all.

What word he had wanted to say all ran through his head.

_No._

_No no no no no no no_

Then he was diving. Body arching itself downward with swanlike grace. Nothing else mattered because there was nothing else there. Just him and Bunny, both falling. He felt his fingers draw blood as they dug into his palm from around his iron grip of the staff, but he didn't care. Why would he care? Why should he?

Falling faster and faster, body streamlined, cutting through air and clouds, falling and falling and falling...

Faster and faster...

Down and down...

He reached Bunny when they'd gotten far too close to the earth. Winding his arms around the Rabbit's waist he'd tugged upward, trying to tug the Pooka from Gravity's fingers. A fight to the death against elements he could not control, but desperately wanted to. Bunny, heavier than him, didn't cooperate. Just kept falling. Like he didn't want to be saved. The arrow in his chest was disintegrating slowly, hissing as beads of sand snaked down his fur and clattered in purple and black sparkles toward the earth. No doubt a few children would be receiving nightmares when the sand touched their roofs and invaded their dreams.

That hardly mattered. Nothing mattered.

He continued to fly up, asking the wind to swirl around them, at least slow the fall. It did help, slowing them enough to make the fall not fatal.

They still fell

Crashing into the ground, arms detaching from the furry waist, Jack rolled down the grass which froze under his body's waist. He stayed that way, disoriented for a moment. When his mind had cleared enough, though not enough at all, he forced his tired body to rise and look around. The sky above him was still dark, Guardians still at work to defeat the King of Nightmares. Cry's of anguish and power raining down to the ground. He shook his head, finally looking to his side.

Bunny.

On his side, arm slung over his front, eyes closed. Jack was over in a shot, crawling through frozen grass and pushign the Pooka onto his back.

Wake up.

His plea was not answered. So he tried again.

_Wake up. Wake up. Please. Wake up._

The arrow had been meant for him. The arrow had always been meant for him. He wasn't anything to the team, didn't Bunny know that? That he had no purpose there? He wasn't the center of stories and fairy tales and childish fantasies. He was a winter spirit. A reckless teen. Not a warrior, not like Bunny.

Bunny had jumped. Why had he jumped? Why did he, why would he, why should he have...

_Wake up. Wake up. You have to get up. They need you. Get up. Walk. Get up. Please get up._

His staff, curled in his grip, his only solace, was thrown far away. Not caring if he lost the damn thing. Anyone could pick it up and take his place. He didn't care.

Both his hands free now he used them to shake the rabbit. Eyes stinging, burning, he shook the furry shoulders, rocking the limp body. The grey fur quickly covered in a light coating of sugary frost. Tiny ice crystals that made him shimmer under the half covered moon. Beautiful and ethereal. Not that Jack noticed. Too busy trying to get him up. Too busy to realize the eyes stayed closed and the chest ceased to rise and fall. Too busy to realize the shimmering fur, ice and stardust, now resembled the makeup of a hero's funeral- a last present before leaving to the moon.

Jack stopped shaking, hands moving to Bunny's chest, beating at it mercilessly.

_Wake up. Please. Wake up. You have to get up. Please. Please. Please._

Didn't stop to see listen to the silence. Void of breathing or painful moans. Didn't stop to look at the small specks of black that coated grey fur, or how they scampered at his touch.

_Wake up. Why won't you wake up? Why won't you get up? Hop. Jump. They need you. You have to help._

Didn't stop to see the boomerangs lying a few feet away, shattered into small peices. Carved murals in the curved wood now lying in pieces. History of family now broken, splintered in the grass.

Jack didn't take time to notice anything. Because nothing mattered at all.

His flat palms beat down on Bunny's chest, coarse fur pricking his skin,

_Wake up wake up wake up..._

Why wouldn't the stupid rabbit just wake up? Why wouldn't he give some snide remark on how overly dramatic he was being right now?

He let his palms linger the next time he planted them, fisting the fur of Bunny's chest through the pulled down sleeves of his blue hoodie. Soft plinks of hailstones hit his hands, but he didn't bother to wipe his eyes. He just ground his teeth together and screamed for someone, anyone, to help them.. To help him.

Bunny couldn't die. He just couldn't. Because if he did...

What would happen to Jack?

He pounded on Bunny's chest desperation seeping in. Hail flowing freely from eye's scattering onto the fur and rolling down to the earth.

_Wake up. Stop being stupid. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up._

_Please._

_Just. Wake. Up._

The feeling of warmth soaking through his palms stung, cold never agreeing with heat. His strung nerves reacted, panic setting in fast, and he moved to swat the heat away.

Red. Bright and warm and red. Against white palms it stood like cranberries in sugar. Soaking through the sleeves and chest of his hoodie, staining his pants where he'd accidentally brushed them. Smeared against his knees and arms. It burned and memories of a time when a yeti had spilled soup on him washed back. Burning and melting as warmth battled cold.

But this burned for more reasons than just temperature, it would seem. Burning through his skin and his mind.

Screams ran thick through his throat. Pleas that even he didn't understand. Tones too inaudible for him to hear.

_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up._

His throat shredding with sobs, heart beating as hard as his fists, once again at work against Bunny's blood matted fur.

_Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum..._

Heart and fists and heart and fists and...

The rage was building quickly. Blaming anything and anyone he could, anything to give him an answer, a solution.

It was Pitch's fault for the arrow.

It was North's fault for not coming quick enough.

It was Tooth's fault for not helping him first.

It was Sandy's fault for not attacking sooner.

It was his fault... his fault... for not listening.

It was Bunny's fault. Bunny's own fault. He had jumped for him. He should have never jumped for him. Why jump for Jack, the one who tormented him? Why at all jump? It was all his fault- his fault...

His balled hands brought themselves down harder, hatred and desperation and sadness and grief and loss all pooling, fighting for dominance. The snow around him whirled faster and faster, light flakes becoming sharper as they fell to the ground.

_I hate you_; he was aware he had screamed it at some point. Directed down to Bunny, but who the message was for he wasn't sure.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate-_

He was ripped away, large arms circling around his chest. He screamed something, he didn't know what, fingers itching for his staff, ready to defend and to attack all at once.

_Stop it. Let go. Please. I can't..._

Everything was a blur except for Bunny, and the red. Everything else meshed together, pounding black around the edges, dizzying and spiraling. He didn't care if it was Pitch or his own mother who had him. His response would have been the same, eyes flickering to Bunnymund.

_He needs me._

_Let go._

_I hate you._

_He needs me._

But the image was taken farther away from him. He heard words from above as he struggled. Words liked no and we'll try and calm. But his struggle never ceased, never ended. He didn't want to stop and listen and he didn't care that he was starting a storm. The ice felt good against the burning of the blood on his hands.

**You have to calm down. You have to listen. You have to believe... hope...**

Jack didn't want to **listen**. He didn't want to **calm down**. He didn't want to **believe**. **Hope** was dead. **Hope** was dead. **Hope** was...

Bunny was dead.

Jack had no idea of quite what was going on. Emotions, bubbling and spilling over, made it hard to understand anything but what really mattered. Colors and shapes and voices and words all in one. His words rang loudest, echoing back and forth, snapping like rubber bands- sharp, painful.

_Wake up._

_Don't you dare-_

_Please._

_Your fault._

_I hate you. I hate you._

_Don't leave,_

_Don't take me away-_

_He needs me,_

It was only when he had let out everything, emptied out every emotion ever, leaving him empty and scared and, for the first time, cold, did he say what he really meant. What had been on his mind and had been translated through words of despair, desperation, through flying fists and bloodied hands.

"Please..." he had whispered, looking to his captor with pleading eyes, and found himself looked back at North's sad ones, "Please. I... I need him."

Jack Frost had been alone for 300 years. But in that moment, that one singular moment, he felt more alone than he'd ever been in his whole life.

Because now...

He really was.

* * *

**Part three coming soon!**

**Next chapter**

**FrostFan, next one is yours!**

**Title: Pool Party**

**STAY TUNED!**


	6. Jumper Part 3

**Oops. So... I lied. I SWEAR I'll do the pool one next! I swear! But this was just... done! And I had to get this one out there or I was going to just EXPLODE! So... yeah...**

**Whoops.**

**Anyway! Here's part 3 to Jumper. And god almighty please dont kill me. Or cry. I hate making people cry! But I do it so darn often! FORGIVE ME? Well... after what I put you through (and I'm still nursing wounds from thrown kitchen utencils after that last Jumper chapter) I really dont deserve that... XD lol!**

**Thanks for all you're support! AND YAY! WE REACHED OVER 100 REVIEWS! Huzzah for us peeps! Huzzah indeed!**

**Thanks so much to my amazing beta, _mjbaerman_, who put up with me for a few days! YOU'RE AWESOME!**

**Oh, and guys, put on your reading caps... this is a long one. I think almost 6000 words... wow wow wowy!**

**Ok, I'm tired... and procrastinating with an essay due on thursday... sigh...**

**I REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE! ENJOY Y'ALL! And if you have any ideas of where you want to see this go tell me! I'll finish it at 4 (or 5), but then might make an epilogue or a few extra. I wont even bother asking if you want a happy ending. it seems like you all do... so... great! WILL I DISSAPOINT? WILL I SUCCUMB TO PEER PRESSURE? WHO KNOWS! READ TO FIND OUT!**

**And really quick fun fact about this! I asked at least 4 writers on this site to do a story where Bunny gets hurt instead, and no one would do it. So... this request was my golden oportunity to fill my own request as well. LOL! TAKE THAT! Guess I did okay!**

**ENJOY AND PLEEEEAAAAASSSSEEE leave reviews peeps! I LIVE OFF THEM!**

**~Gal**

* * *

o0o

_A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist.  
_

_~Stewart Alsop _

o0o

* * *

Jack had been delusional when North had brought him back to the Pole. Struggling to free himself of the large mans grip, making steering the sleigh a daunting and difficult task. The whole time Jack screamed and shouted and protested, not stopping once to see where he was or who he was with.

In fact, North truly believed that Jack had no idea who he was with. Looking over at him, red eyes, bloodstained hoodie, tear tracks frozen and slick. Panic set deep in his eyes. No, he didn't have any energy to question who he was with.

But, then again, it would seem that those questions, the whose and what's and whens and why's and how's, were all tiny compared to the trivial question.

"Where is Bunny!" he screamed it for the hundreth time, voice horse, "he needs me! LET ME GO! HE NEEDS ME!"

"Jack... you have to-"

"Let go! PLEASE! Bunny's going to die. Let me go, let me go! I have to- get away! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you so much! I hate Bunny! He's so... you're stupid let me go!"

"Jack, please!"

"LET ME GO!"

It was a godsend that Sandy heard the commotion when they parked in the garage, hurling a ball of golden sand at the boy. Immediately thoughts of everything vanished, replaced with ideas of dolphins instead- the teen's happy place it would seem.

"T'ank you, Sandy..." the short man smiled. "How ees he?"

"Not good," Tooth joined them, wiping her hands off on a white rag turned red. "Not good." She repeated it, looking down at Jack sadly. "He's alive. But... you have to look at him. I just... I don't know! North..."

"I'll look at him. Yoo take Jack to his room. Keep him there. He weel wanting to see Bunny when he wakes. And... I wish for him not to see." Tooth nodded, understanding, picking up the feather light boy and whisking him from the room, the dolphin in fast persuit with a trail of yellow dust following behind.

"Sandy?" The man nodded, "where ees he?"

* * *

They had put him in the green room. North, long ago, had made rooms for every Guardian in hopes that they'd stay over every so often. Honestly, until Jack came along, it had been simply a project for North when he got bored, coordinating room colors to match those of him fellow workers. And now with Jack, the five of them had come closer... become a family. And suddenly his project had a purpose, leading him to practically beg the others to stay at least once a month. Jack's room was the newest of them all and, to North's delight, the one used the most.

Bunny's room was green, obviously. Brown undertones here and there. Eggs carved into the woodwork and whittled vines crawling up banisters. Springtime indoors- an attempt at a warren. Of course if was nowhere close to the underground paradise. But for a one month stay, it would have to do.

It would seem Bunny had been forced to take the offer, now lying flat on the bed. Breathing harsh and eyebrows twitching, decision of whether he was in pain or being strong not yet decided. Tooth had taken every grain of nightmare sand from the wound, a shallow hole in between the gap in his ribs. Not yet close enough to hit anything vital, but enough to allow infection and pain to spread quickly.

What was fatal, North felt as his hand touched the rabbits shoulder and quickly retracted, was the fever that was beginning to heat up his skin.

"He ees seeck..."

Snady nodded.

"He needs attention. Now."

Another nod.

"Vhat do we do?"

This time, Sandy had no answer. Floating a few inches off the ground and staring blankly at one of the carved eggs, avoiding any lingering gazes on the sick Guardian. North just sighed, cursing in Russian and then uttering a strange prayer to the moon, a plea to allow Bunny to be alright. If not for his own sake, then at least for his friend.

* * *

North was right. Jack would want to see Bunny. And he did. Knocking over yeti's to get into the room, stumbling drunkenly as sleep left his eyes, he burst into the room.

"Tooth!" North had finished wrapping Bunny's chest and waist, "I t'ought I say to keep him there."

"He froze my tail!" Tooth help up one of the feathers, the tips still heavy with small pieces of ice, "and after that he just got out."

"Bunny." The boy ignored their conversation, heading strait for the bed. "Bunny?" He stayed there for a moment, not blinking, scared it he looked away then Bunny would disappear and crumble into black sand and bad dreams. "Why isn't he waking up?" The question was more for anyone who would answer, but everyone seemed to think North was the best to answer.

"He ees seeck." Wonder touched Jack lightly on the shoulder but was not shoved away. "Dee sand... eet must have had some kind of eefect. Infect wound or maybe just go eento blood-"

"I told him that I hated him..." Jack grabbed the Pooka's hand, feather light touch, "I said that to him after he saved me." Silence. "He's going to wake up, right?"

North struggled to find an answer, hands moving animatedly, "... We think... hope... he should."

"I have to apologize to him." Jack let go of the hand, but from the way he was looking at the fuzzy appendage it would seem that he was regretting releasing any form of contact, just not wanting the others to see. "I didn't mean that. I don't hate him..."

"I'm sure he knows that, Jack." Tooth buzzed a little ways over, allowing Jack to easily look her in the eye. "He really did. You know how much he liked you."

Jack shook his head. "When he wakes up, I'll apologize for it all. '68, Kangaroo... this."

"This wasn't your fault!"

"Yes it was."

"No it-"

"It was my fault, Tooth." Voice so flat it was almost toneless, "drop it."

She did, floating back a bit and staring at him for a moment. There was no way to be offended or feel hurt, not by the way he ignored them all and focused all his attention on someone else. She nodded. "I have to head out anyway. Teeth to collect. I'll come back tomorow just to... check on him."

"Yes. D'at sounds good." North gave Jack, already settling in the large green chair by the bed, a look. "Should I have Sandy put heem to sleep?"

"No. Just... leave him. He needs it."

Sandy nodded, approving the concept of allowing the boy to stay in his place. Then conjjured an arrow above his head.

"Yes, I know. You go too. And come back later, yes?"

Nod.

"Good. I feel as eef we weel need all the help we can get. Bunny may get better soon but... I somehow do not know."

The other two left and North lingered for a moment before leaving as well. But Jack stayed. Silent and scared, he stayed in the chair and circled lazy shaped on the floor with his staff. Bunny had to get better. Under his watch, he just had to.

North only came back once, to collect Jack's sweatshirt from him with promises of returning it later. Still covered in splotches of blood, turning brown against the blue. He'd given the article of clothing numbly, one security blanket gone. He got it back soon enough, Phil rather fast when it came to laundry. But both the yeti and North had stared at the hoodie for a good ten minutes, afraid, before washing away all traces of blood ever having been there, all traces of pain.

* * *

The fever refused to budge, raging through his body.

It was terrifying for Jack, watching as Bunny, the strongest person he ever knew, slowly decayed into what he could assume to be nothingness. Each day growing weaker and weaker.

North had been attempting to burn away the fever, telling Jack that the anthropomorphic rabbit would have to sweat it away in order to break it. Blankets constantly piled high on his failing body, fire always blazing in the hearth. The room was stifling, reaching degrees of eighty at some points and even a hundred at others. The entire thing a hopeful attempt at breaking the devil that surged through him. But really it did little more than to make Bunny hot, fur sheen with a thin layer of sweat, his trembling never subsiding.

The room had become much like summertime, a place that no winter sprite should have to endure.

Jack endured it anyway.

He stayed in the room with Bunny, sitting in a large chair, always with a glass of ice water by his side. With even the windows closed he needed every bit of cold he could get. Not that he got any anyway, even the water heated up after a few minutes, and in the conditions he had placed himself in there was no way he could freeze it again.

North had tried to discourage him, telling him it would be too hot, that the elder guardian would be fine under his watch and he didn't need the two of them sick. But Jack refused to leave his friends side. Not even when he felt as if he was suffocating, which he was, or when his skin was prickled with sweat to the point where he thought he was melting, which he was. He still refused to leave.

Jack did absolutely anything he could. Adjusting the blankets when they slid off, replacing wet towels on his forehead, helping Bunny swallow the thick herbal remedies even through unconsciousness. Flitting around the room and always stopping beside the rabbit's head to check temperature and whisper encouraging words, tears held back in narrowed eyes.

North had found him like that once, kneeled by the bed, small white hands curled around Bunnymund's larger wrist like a boy holding his teddy bear. Too far away to hear much, and trying to be stealthy, he could only make out a few things. _It'll be okay_, was one of them. _Don't leave, please, don't leave... hate you forever... don't you dare... come back soon... never ruin easter... 68... sorry... like a brother... love you... my fault... my fault... my fault..._

Other times, being less stealthy, North had come in to find Jack asleep, on a chair, upper body flopped onto the bed in front of him, arms splayed and hand, always, resting on his friends paw. A reminder that, even in sleep, he was still there.

Golden dream sand always floated over his head. Scenes of him and Bunny, snowball fights, pranks back and forth, Bunny ruffling his hair affectionately...

It must have been then when North finally realized how inseparable the two of them were.

Best friends.

Brothers.

Family.

One could not truly live without the other.

And if anything happened to Bunny, something that was beginning to worry North very much, Jack would be left with nothing. He'd survive, that was clear. Jack had a habit of surviving. Living, though, was out of the question. The difference between the two, surviving and living, was one that not many people stopped to think about.

Oh yes, Jack would assuredly survive.

Live? He wasn't so sure.

North did all he could to coax the young man into taking a break. Dark circles hung under his eyes, rubbing at his brow to try and stay awake, always coming away with a soaked sweatshirt. Hot beyond belief, needing to cool down.

"Jack. You need sleep." That was how the conversation always began. North going in, checking on Bunny, and then telling Jack just what he needed. Sometimes it was food. Other times it was water. Sometimes North begged Jack simply to go outside for a moment, slow the melting process he was going through.

And just as North's demands were predictable, so were Jack's answers.

"I'm fine," Jack leaned back, eyes firmly set on Bunny.

"No. Yoo are not. Yoo are keeling self here! Ees too hot! You have been awake three days now!"

Jack just shook his head fiercely, small beads of sweat flicking off. No. Not sweat. Water. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "I won't leave Bunny."

"He weel-"

"I won't leave Bunny."

And he didn't. The place beside the Guardian became his permanent home, never straying from the side of it. Not for a moment. Staff staying clutched in his grasp. A child's security blanket- much needed possession that he would not be without.

He stayed like that for three days. Bunny's room growing hotter and hotter, Jack growing weaker and weaker. Strangely enough, the entire process was the same for Jack and Bunny. Both of them deteriorating, both of them slowly crumbling and disappearing. It would seem that Jack refused to allow his senior to suffer on his own, so took just as hard of a hit as he did, allowing time to take its toll on the both of them.

It was on the fifth day that North called the other Guardians for a meeting he wished he never had to call. He'd discussed it with Manny the night before, begging for any answers he could find in hushed tones, not wanting Jack to hear. Manny had no solution, not even a peep. The only answer he provided was the simplest one-

_Let go._

Manny was always right. It was time for North to step back and let go, as much as he hated to do it. He no longer could take control of the situation because the situation refused to let him. The fifth day was the hardest one for North because he had to tell the others to do the same.

Gathered together in North's study, down the hall from Bunny's room, and from Jack, the three Guardians, wonder, memories, dreams, all stayed silent as the revelation of what they had to do came crashing down on them.

"Bunny, he ees seeck..." North pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily through his nose, "far seecker than I eemagined he could be."

Sandy allowed a small puff of sand above his head to turn dark before ghosting back to gold.

"Ees fault of black sand?" There was a nod of confirmation "Can yoo feex?"

Sandy furrowed his brow, then shook his head, facing the floor in what could only be seen as shame.

"B-but Bunny can't..." Tooth was fluttering furiously, the most emotional in the room. "We need him! And what about- oh!" She stopped where she was, dropping to the floor, her hands covering her mouth. "Jack! What about Jack!"

They had purposefully not invited the winter sprite to their meeting. No one knew quite how to tell him that the Guardian of Hope might not make it the next few hours into the night. That they were going to allow Manny to do his job, and that, as much as the boy thought, the Guardians were not immortal. The last few days being a testament of the loyalty between the two, they didn't quite know how far Jack's reaction would go.

"I have not quite figured out yet." North leaned back, the chair groaning. "Bunny and him, d'ey are so close..." he chuckled, eyes showing no humor and tone devoid completely of it. "vhat weel Jack do? How do we say... Who weel tell him...?"

Tears shining in Tooth's eyes she backed away from the desk, eliminating herself. "What do we say? How? These are all terrible questions! We have to find ways to help Bunny! If Jack knew that he was going to die, what would he-"

"Bunny's going to die?" The voice, quivering, brought them all out of their discussion. Three pairs of eyes turning to stare at the thin boy in the doorway. Frame shaking, tears glinting in his eyes, staff at one side and fists tightly closed at his sides. The first time in five days that he'd left the room, and that was what he had heard. "What do you mean?"

North was first to react, slowly getting up. "Jack... we cannot do anything else. There ees nothing else-"

"There has to be something else!" North found himself jumping back as a blast of wind hit him, accompanied by Jack's shout. "You have to try harder!" _No no no no no... not happening, please, no, can't be... shouldn't be... stop it stop it stop it..._

"Jack, calm down. We understand. We are all sad, we all want to help-"

"NO! You don't get it! Y-you j-just don't... you have to try harder! He has to wake up! I-I have to s-say sorry! You have to-"

"Jack, please-"

"_SHUT UP_!" His staff hit the ground, ice spreading across the red carpet quickly, "Bunny has to be okay! He has to be okay! Even if... even if I have to help him!"

"Jack... we are going to keep trying... but the chances-"

"I don't care! I don't care!" He swiped at his eyes. "Bunny's going to be okay! He's... he has to be!"

Before they could get another word out Jack was sprinting through the workshop, his staff dropping somewhere on the ground as he practically kicked the door to Bunny's room open and slammed it closed behind him. He was hit immediately by the feel of suffocation, heat filling his lungs and making him lightheaded. His strides were purposeful as he made his way to the side of the bed, the Pooka still in an unwakable slumber underneath mounds of duvet.

"You're going to be okay..." he tugged the blankets up and dipped the towel in the cold water, wringing it out and placing it on Bunny's forehead- still blazing. "You have to be okay. Got that? You saved me. So now... I have to save you. That's just how it works. Remember? Because if I save you then you owe me one, and I like it when people owe me favors, so wake up and owe me one. Now would be great..." Jack swallowed hard and tried to see past salty slush that dripped out of his eyes.

"North is just... tired. We're all tired. And scared. And when people are scared sometimes they say thing that... that they d-don't m-mean. H-he was j-just saying th-that..." He wiped his nose and eyes with the sweatshirt's sleeve. "He's just..." No. There were no excuses. North had told him that Bunny was going to die. There were no excuses for that... no way of making up for the words or taking them back.

North had given up. They'd all given up. But he was far from giving up. He was Jack Frost! And Jack Frost rarely gave up. Sure, he had given up with Pitch, but that was after one hell of a fight. And some could argue that he'd given up after falling in the ice- certainly the way he'd felt for quite some time- but that was after he had saved his sister's life. He'd follow that pattern and give up only after he'd helped Bunny. Then he'd give up. Until then, everyone would have to just accept it.

He stepped back a few paces, clearing his mind of all thoughts of the conversation he'd overheard. Thinking rationally was what was going to help him now. He had to stop and think and really find a way to help the situation.

What was the situation.

Heat. That was all he could come up with. Heat and heat and more heat. Blankets and fires and closed windows and warm tea and hot water and burning medicine. All of it hot, meant to burn the fever.

But...

Maybe North was going about it all wrong. The man was determined to sweat the fever out of Bunny. Being a native to Russia during the 15th century, that was all you really could do. But Jack himself had seen first hand what the other elements could do.

You could always sweat out a fever.

But you could also freeze it.

He knew exactly which one Bunny would agree with the least and also which one he thought might be worth a try. Anything, at this point, was worth a try. He rounded the bed a few times, looking over the situation in the room. Fire, closed windows, heavy quilts. He could always open the windows...

But to freeze something as harsh as fever you had to be just as extreme as trying to burn it. North had done his part. Now it was his turn.

Half an hour later Jack had successfully snuffed the fire (a long and difficult process). He threw every window open, welcoming in frigid air which hit him in the face, a mother worried about her child.

"I'm fine..." he chuckled as the wind brushed worriedly against his cheek, freezing any melted water it could find on his skin, "I'm fine. Could you come into the room for a bit, though?" As if overjoyed to be of some kind of help, though what help it didn't quite know, the North Wind whistled past him and swirled through the room. Jack smiled. North Wind had always had a soft spot for him, and him for her. Pleasing him was something high on her list. Unlike the South Wind, crankier than Bunny on a bad day.

Jack had to untangle Bunny from the covers and sheets, throwing them in a tall pile on the floor and giving them an extra kick away from the bed. The Guardian of Hope was soaked in sweat, grey fur plastered down to every part of his body. He looked strange, void of his usual wrist armor and the leather sash that never left his chest and shoulder. Waist cinched by a thick bandage that corseted the middle of his body, turning pink from blood.

North was usually the one to change it, but Jack wanted it to now be his turn. North had never truly failed, and was trying the best he could, as were Tooth and Sandy. But Jack couldn't stand for try any longer.

He was going to save his friend. No _try_ involved.

Unwinding the bandages was a tricky task. Plucking at them until the tab came undone and he could unravel them. He'd throw the bandage over Bunny's chest and then carefully drag it out from underneath him. Small moans of pain, trying to be stifled, creaked from his throat, and Jack had to stop and apologize a few times.

"Sorry..." he muttered, hand absentmindedly stroking down the fur, leaving small frost tracks. "I'm so sorry..."

The wound wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. It would seem that the effects caused from it were the worst. Not too deep, blood caked on the now stiff grey fur looking worse than it really was. Finding a new towel he dipped it in the water and lightly dabbed the wound. It would seem that Bunny didn't know what the correct response was. To shiver or to cry out. Settling on a double reaction, a violent shiver rocked his body when the freezing rag hit him. When Jack began to clean the gash, even in his unconscious state, the elder Guardian still held back a groan, catching it in his throat and letting it settle there as a grunt.

"Stubborn..." Jack muttered, eyebrows knitting in guilt. "You can just say that you're in pain, you know? It'll make me feel even worse... and I really think I have to. So go ahead. Just say it. Wake up and say it!" Bunny didn't say anything, just grunting again. A large sigh heaved from his throat and he shook his head. He had to keep hoping. That was all he could do.

Wrapping the bandages around him was harder than taking them off. Much harder, in fact. Jack was apologizing constantly to Bunny as those pain filled whimpers and groans made their way to the surface.

"I'm so sorry..." "I didn't mean too..." "Everything's going to be okay."

Hand stroking down the white patch by Bunny's neck, no longer as soft. Murmuring pleas for forgiveness as cold hands tried their hardest to be gentle. "I'm so sorry... so sorry... my fault..." whether he was talking about what had happened or what was occurring it would have held the same words. What he meant by any of it he truly didn't know.

It didn't take long to finish wrapping the white gauze around his friend's middle. One thing down. What was still worrying him most of all was the stupid fever, refusing to budge. So far he had made the room into an icebox. Not enough. It needed to have direct contact if he wanted any kind of change in temperature. Grabbing the bowl of water from the bedside he leaned out the window and scooped snow from the roof into the bowl, the water sloshing around through the cracks of ice crystals. The rag was soaked in the slushy mixture. Not even bothering to wring it out he plopped it onto Bunny's forehead.

Another violent shiver made it's way over Bunny's body. The fever was upset, not liking to have an opponent. But such a thing had never met Jack Frost, who battled warmth on a daily basis. It had never had a match to meet. And Jack Frost intended on winning the battle, even if it would be one hell of a fight.

"Sorry about this, Kangaroo," Jack took off his sweatshirt, leaving him in the white blouse and ripped trousers, "I know you don't like the cold, but you'll have to deal." Placing one knee on the high bed, he hoisted himself up, quickly crawling to his friends side and lying down next to him. His thin arms wrapped themselves securely around Bunny's chest and arms, letting his fingers fist the edge of the bandages.

More shivering. Teeth chattering and quiet whimpers.

"Sorry..." Jack shuffled closer and hoped that North didn't come in right then... or had a camera. He'd have a field day and Bunny would probably never let him hear the end of it.

He shook his head. This wasn't about his pride. It was about Bunny.

So he shuffled a bit closer and hugged his arms tighter.

The wind traveling around the room was quiet, save for a few whistles and hums every few minutes. There was no longer a crackling of the fireplace, instead the occasional snap of an icicle from outside, which Jack found much more comforting. The only real sound, though it was hardly a sound at all, was Bunny's body, shaking violently as the fever tried to win against the cold, pressing against it. The heat trying to stay inside the warm body, and continue to heat it until lava burned in the veins. Or it's host died. Whatever came first.

Jack would let neither happen. He couldn't let either happen.

The teenager snuggled closer, "You're going to be fine, cottontail," he assured his friend. His thumb stroked the white hair, a mindless habit. "You're going to be just fine. And after you get better we're going to have a race. I bet I can beat you now. Or maybe we'll just have the biggest snowball fight ever. We can be on the same team if you want. O-or you can be with Sophie. We didn't tell her what happened just in case... I mean... sorry. I didn't mean that." He sniffled, feeling very foolish for a moment.

"It was all my fault, you know that? I hope that you do. I blamed you before," he looked up at the face, waiting for the eyes to look down at him with anger for the false blame. No such change occurred. "but I don't blame you anymore..." his throat was tight, so he swallowed. "But why did you jump? That's what I want to know! Why? I mean... you're just so... you're so... stupid. Sorry. Didn't mean that. No, wait, yes I did." Jack sniffled again, his vision blurring. He didn't want Bunny to see him cry, so he instead just buried his face into his friends side. The aroma of the warren was overwhelming and made the tears pool out more. Grass, peonies, paint.

If it weren't for him his friend would be home right now, painting eggs. Or making Sophie smile. Maybe even scolding him.

He snuggled closer, face pressed into warm fur. He had to open his mouth to breathe, tears, half frozen, touching his lips. Salty. His nose too stuffed to do anything other than smell.

"You have to get better..." he hated how small his voice sounded, childish and desperate. "you just have to. You're supposed to protect all the kids of the world," he was muffled through the grey coat, "remember? You took an oath. You said that no matter what you'd protect every single kid."

Another tight swallow, "What about me? I'm still a kid. If you die then you're breaking the oath. And you know what's worse than that? You're breaking a pretty big promise to me. You don't remember making that promise. But that's because it's mandatory for friends to make. Once you become friends, you have to make a promise." He hesitated, "I already made the promise. Because we're friends. You might not know that, but we are. We're best friends. And best friends don't break promises. I promised that nothing would happen to you." He chuckled, "You would have thought that was stupid. And it kinda was. But... I made it anyway. So there."

It was the most honesty he'd ever displayed in front of any of the Guardians. And as the words came out, he'd wished that he'd said all of it earlier. Or... maybe he shouldn't have. Attachment was not something he liked to flaunt. Attachment meant that you did things for others, which he didn't really mind. But it worked both ways. And he hated it when others did things for him. What Bunny had done was borderline extreme, and he was realizing that if not for the attachment he had to his new family, there would have been no accident.

Bunny wouldn't be dying.

Jack snuffled against the arm he was currently pushed against, deciding that while he had started talking he might as well continue. The shaking was getting worse, but he didn't want to let go. This was a last attempt at helping him. All he could do was talk Bunny through it. And if that was all he could do, then that's all he would do.

"I have a lot of plans," his lip quivered and he gritted his teeth against the motion, "for me and you. A lot of new nicknames too. How do you feel about Bugs Bunny? Do you know who that is? I'll tell you when you wake up. You'll wake up. I promise you will."

Where the words came from next he'd never know. But it seemed to be a pattern. Whenever those he loved were in danger the words always came, always the same and always ones he hated saying afterwards.

"Everything's going to be alright. You're going to be fine. Trust me. Would I ever trick you?"

* * *

The next few hours were torturous. Cold and hot and tears and fear and hope washing down a spiraling drain. All of it it one room, Jack attempting to fight it all. The battle they'd had with Pitch was seemingly nothing now. The battle in that tiny room was more intense than any he'd ever experienced.

Maybe it was because the villain was something he couldn't just wish away; touch and turn into thousands of golden particles. He couldn't just say, "I don't believe in you," and make it all better. This wasn't a villain that was there to do villainy. It was there to, in many ways, do it's job. Make people sick and reject any kind of protest.

This villain did not dress in black or cary nightmares or leave when it decided that it had had enough. This was not even a villain. It was a fact of nature. And as much as Jack wished it, he could not control nature.

Many times during the night Jack found himself looking over Bunny's chest and out the window, up into the sky and into the eye-like craters of the moon. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be angry at the planet. Angry? Pleading?

One thing he was sure, he was jealous. With all that power, enough to bring him back from the dead, why couldn't he help Bunny? The moon refused to answer him when he'd asked that, once to himself and a second time out loud. So then he did become angry. Glaring up at it's lunar light, shining down into the room like a teasing entity, only there to offer comfort but do nothing for either parties.

Unfair and wrong and cruel...

Words he'd used a lot lately.

So he'd lay there, next to his shivering friend, and thought about it some more. Why the moon didn't help Bunny. Certainly better off then he'd been, dead on the bottom of a lake. Why not help him now?

The answer may not have been right. But it made sense to Jack.

Because Jack had had no one but the moon to help him. Bunny, on the contrary, had Jack.

And after that, he wasn't sure if he was mad at the moon anymore.

He stayed awake for as long as he could, trying his best to stay awake. Not wanting to miss a single breath of air, a single rattling intake in the lungs. Scared to miss the pulse and the ba bum against his palm whenever the younger guardian grabbed the furry wrist. The quiet was doing strange things to his mind, taking away the confidence he'd held so tightly before and replacing it with the dread question.

_What if?_

So he didn't want to miss a moment of Bunny next to him, alive and breathing. And the more he thought about it, the more terrified he was. So he willed everything around him, moon, stars, sun, wind, to help get his friend better. To please get his friend up again.

He'd take the tongue lashing. And the names. And the glares and the occasional times he'd get kicked out. All for the sight of Bunny up and about. He'd do anything at this point.

Unfortunately, it was one of those situations where one can only do what they can do. And that was so little.

So Jack curled up next to Bunny and latched his arms tighter.

"I'm so sorry..." it was becoming his creed. "So... so... sorry..." He was falling asleep, and there was no stopping it. Sandy must have passed over... "You know that... I don't hate you... right?" He nuzzled his face closer, taking in deep breaths of the familiar smell. The grass and peonies and paint... "I really don't. I never did. I always looked up to you, you know that? The blizzard of '68... that was... was just for y-your attention..." falling deeper asleep. "Wanted to... talk... to you..." eyelids closing, darkness surrounding. "You're family... now... my family now... and... I really... do... love you..."

Jack stifled a yawn and at the same time a sob, resistance for both being futile.

"Don't die... okay? Trust... me..." another yawn, another deep intake of air. "It's kinda... like hopscotch. Take... a few... steps for me... alright... Just don't look down... come back... it'll be..."

And he was taken into a land of fitful slumber, not able to even finish his sentence. Golden sand swirling in pictures of Bunny and him both marveling at dolphins.

Too asleep was he to realize that, a few hours later, with a temperature beginning to slowly drop, bright green eyes, hazy and unclear, opened just enough to look to the side. A tired smiled, a chuckle, a sigh, and a painful grunt as an arm wound its way around the winter spirit, pulling him closer, the other wiping tears off a pale face. Sounds of a teenager's protest coming from the latter. Moon smiling down through the window, lunar threads caressing shadows with a dim glow. Another chuckle as the green eyes looked through the window, a nod of thanks in the direction of the ever present planet.

Bunny had played hopscotch.

He'd once again jumped.

And once again, it had been for Jack.


	7. Acorn Eyes - An ROTG Christmas

**God, I am _such_ a liar! **

**I know, I know. Pool party was supposed to come next. But honestly, how could I NOT do a Christmas special?! For ROTG of all things! So here we go! The Christmas special! Next chapter I'll try and give an individual message to each and every one of my reviewers! YOU ARE ALL AMAZING! **

**And just to give you an idea of some of this, it is NOT based off of any of my other fics. Because there are some things that, if you try to make them linear, will NOT make sense! These are oneshots, people! That's just how it works!**

**Anyway, hope you like this! It's one of my longest ones yet. Almost 8,500 words! IT'S A LONG ONE, PEEPS! And as usual, a lot of Bunny and Jack family fluff! I love the slashes people, but I can never write them for this particular ship! I don't know, whenever I saw them, I saw two people who were really close as in a family kind of thing. Like a big brother, little brother kind of relationship! Too cute! But shippers keep on shipping! Just not something that you'll see in this fic!**

**And an extra thanks towards mjbaerman! Thanks for your awesome Beta skills! Everyone, check out her new fic! It's an amazing ROTG fic with tons of fluffy stuffs! I read it and loved it! It's called Shadowed Victory! READ IT!**

**Thanks again! And if you've got suggestions, leave 'em!**

**So far I've got Pool Party done, a fic about Jack and his aversion to touching people, and another one in the process about Jack getting hurt, as well as the end of Jumper in the process! So I'll have lots of room for more requests!**

**THINK PEOPLE! THINK!**

**Thanks so much and enjoy!**

******And Merry Christmas from a Jew/athiest! And possible deities' bless us, everyone!**

* * *

o0o

_Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold._

-Andre Maurois

o0o

* * *

For as long as Jack could remember, and that was roughly three hundred years -his new memories were bits and pieces of seventeen years, and that was something he was still registering- he'd been on the naughty list. Not that he cared. Oh no. Not at all. Well... maybe a little. Wait! No! No, he couldn't have cared less...

Jack told himself all these things every year. "You're alone," he'd say, "just do what alone people do. Buy yourself a gift and move on." But he really couldn't move on. And he couldn't really buy anything for himself since he wasn't really visible and had no money. But it was the idea that counted. So every year, during Christmas, he would make snowmen. He always made three in total. He figured that four was an acceptable number of people for a family, a decent sized on at least. So he made three people and let them include him. It was always better, he decided, to be included rather than to include.

And so every Christmas he would sit around with his three snowpeople and just talk. He'd tell them everything, whisper it to the snow that he had made and then formed into shapes. They were never gender specific, snowpeople never were, but he sometimes, for some unknown reason, gave the smallest of the three long hair and a big smile.

"I'm on the naughty list," he'd tell them, almost proudly, "so I don't really get presents. Or friends. But that's ok." They would be silent. "I've been on the naughty list for three hundred years! Because a long time ago I tried to break into the big man's workshop. The big man is Santa, but his name is really North. Did you know that? That his name was North?" The never answered the question, so he just assumed that they didn't. "Well, it is. North, he's got this workshop that's filled with toys for all the kids of the world. Well... not all the kids. Hanukkah Harry works eight night shifts for some of the other kids. But a lot of the kids at least. But not me. Because I'm on the naughty list."

They neither scolded nor sympathized, just stared blankly with their acorn eyes.

"He's got friends. North, I mean. A lot of them. Or, at least I think that they're friends. See, he's a Guardian. That's someone who works all the time and does grownup stuff. Which I hate, by the way. And there are only four Guardians. But we don't really get along. Well... that's not true. Sandy's nice to me, but he's not around much. And Tooth is sometimes nice when she shows up, but it's mostly her little fairies that come around and they're okay, I guess." He'd always frown at the next part. "But the Easter Bunny doesn't like me much. His name is Bunny, I think. I mean, I guess he's got a longer name. They all do. But I just call him Bunny."

His frown would be set. "Did you know that he used to be my favorite? I mean, the guys' not scared of anything. At all. And I looked up to him for a while. But then... I dunno. I met him about fifty years after I first became... this," he gestured to himself, "and he just didn't really like me. And every time we meet... he just kinda hates me. He told me that I deserve to be on the naughty list."

The snowpeople never commented on that, either.

"And North, I tried to get him to like me too. But it never worked out. So now, I'm on the naughty list." His scowl would turn into a fake grin, though who he was faking he was never sure. "But that's okay. I'm okay with being on that list. I mean, I'm sure that I hold some sort of record for it by now. No kid can be a kid for three hundred years. And they have parents to straighten them out. I'm... alone. So that's better. That's a lot better." He'd always look at them at that point and give them a nod, "I'm not alone though. Because I have you! Right? And... I'm sure that I can give you gifts, but you don't have to give me anything. Okay?"

It was always around that point in the evening, the moon shining down on the four -three of them made of frozen water and various stones, sticks and sundry- when he'd look at what he was doing and finally realize what was going on.

He was alone.

He was alone and considered to be a nuisance. So much so that he was on a list for it. No one stopped to look at him and say, "why are you so bad?" and let him say, "because I have no one. Because I'm all alone. Because I crave attention. Because I need a friend."

And it was around that time that he destroyed the snowpeople, because he realized how sad his situation was. And after that he'd either run away, apologize to the useless piles or just cry. Some years he did all three. Destroying the only friends he had and then realizing they were nothing but snow made from his own hands -snow that couldn't talk or feel or move or smile- was depressing, and it always hit him hardest after that point.

He did care. He really, really did. And if someone could have gone down at that moment, anyone, even Bunny, and given him a hug, told him to change his ways and think, then he would. He'd change everything. Would the tricks stop? No. Would the mischief stop? Never. Would he ever change? Maybe. But he'd _try_. Give him one person to talk to and he'd try.

Or maybe just one present at Christmas to say that someone out there was thinking about him. Thinking about someone was better than not thinking about them at all. He wasn't even thought about.

But no present came and his name stayed glued to the top of the naughty list. So much so that after a while, North didn't even bother to check it. The kid couldn't change. Ever. So what did it matter? The others forgot about the winter sprite until he caused them some sort of distress. And when 1968 rolled around, the blizzard hitting Bunny hard, Jack's name had been circled in red pen, marking its permanent placement as number one on the naughty list.

No one stopped to look at it, or its owner.

"He got what e' d'served." Bunny waved a paw, absentmindedly. "Bloody ruined my 'oliday."

And everyone else, whether they agreed or not (and three out of four agreed) went along with it and said nothing. No one wondered what the teen was doing at that moment. If they had bothered to look they might have seen the boy sitting around with three snowpeople, offering them each a present made of ice, all he could offer, and smiling as if he truly wished for them to accept it. They would have seen the loneliness in his face, the slouch of his stance and the way that he acted as though he were lost in the middle of an endless nothing. And in some ways, he was. Even if there were others there, they never responded.

Who cared about an invisible boy whose name was a fixture on Santa's naughty list?

So year after year Jack continued his tradition. And year after year even the snowpeople seemed to realize how sad and lonely it was. And after a few more years, even they drifted away, until finally all Jack had was himself and himself alone. A few crumbled gifts in his hand laid out for someone, anyone, to take. Offering whatever he had to the world.

And even those, by morning, melted into the snow.

* * *

"Jack!" North's voice echoed through the hallways. "Jack, vhere are you!" He'd only been searching for a short while, but it was unlike the youngest of their clan to not respond. By now he would have been floating around North's face, giant smile flashing brightly.

"E's not here." Bunny didn't stray from the fire, but turned his head to look at North. Tooth and Sandy, both trying to catch elves who had stolen the cookie platter, paused for a moment to address Father Christmas.

"He said that he had work tonight!" Tooth flitted up and down, wings invisible by speed. "Going to be out for a while by the sound of it!"

Sandy nodded, displaying pictures above his head. First Jack, then his staff and then a few snowflakes falling down.

"Work? On Christmas Eve? Vhy?"

Bunny shrugged, "E's a winter spirit! Can't expect him ta' stay in by the fire, can ya'?" It was tradition, as long as they had all been Guardians, that the four of them got together on Christmas Eve. The other three would wait in Santoff Claussen until North returned on Christmas morning and then, if they were lucky and the elves hadn't done anything, they held a feast. They all exchanged presents, Bunny and North would bicker for a while and in the end everyone went home happy.

They had tried to explain this tradition to Jack, all of them (even Bunny) excited about a new member becoming part of their traditions. They had been equally disappointed when Jack hadn't jumped at the prospect of it all. In fact, he hadn't been at all as excited as they had expected. In some ways he had seemed almost... angry...

The anger was quickly covered when Jack perked up -an act, and they all knew it- and flashed his brightest (and fakest) smile. "That sounds great," he'd said. "I'll... see if I can make it."

"See if you can make it?" North had given him a look, one a father gives to his son after the sons says, fishing trip... well... if I'm not out partying and stuff... "Vhy not just make it!"

"Cause," and Jack had shrugged, "I have Christmas traditions too." He did.

And it had been left at that.

"Do you suppose 'e ees going to come?" North had seen the Spirit a few hours before, flitting in to tease Bunny momentarily and pat Baby Tooth on the head, and then he'd been gone. "E 'as to be here!"

"I dunno, mate?" Bunny shrugged, "I don't see why he wouldn't!"

"It is tradition!" Tooth yelled from her lunge at one of the little helpers.

"I mean, sure, he may not be receiving present but-"

"Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Bunny, surprisingly, was the one to hold up his hands and approach the elderly man. "What d'ya mean, he might not be gettin' no present?"

North made a weeeelll kind of gesture, "'E ees on naughty list! I check eet this year! Twice!" He held up two beefy fingers for emphasis. "Still circled in red! Just like the year before. And year before dat!"

"You ain't serious!?"

"I am alvays serious, Bunny! I may be jolly, but always serious!"

"Oh that'd be right!" the Pooka threw his hands in the air, "He saved our lives!" Bunny was furious now, fast approaching the man who only stepped back twice, but it was enough for Bunny to see that he was intimidating him. "'E saved all our lives! And yer gonna act like a dill an' still keep 'im on the bloody naughty list!"

"... E ees seventeen..." now North was just searching for excuses.

"I don't care'f 'ees seventy years old! His name needs ta' get off the bloomin' list!"

"I cannot do, Bunny! I have not had proper time to assess...

"Assess what? Honestly! I'm stonkered! Mad as a bleedin' cut snake! You-" He rounded on North, pointing one finger at his beard, "are an arse! I ain't gonna think that tomorrow! But today, that's what ya' are."

"Bunny!" Tooth had joined in, abandoning the elf for a moment, Sandy close by. Sandy, unlike Tooth, also seemed to share the opinion of the anthropomorphic rabbit, something that looked like "**_#%^% !#_**" flashing over his head a few times as he scowled at the Guardian of Wonder.

"Vha! Sandy! You cannot agree!"

A thumbs up brought the man down a few inches off his pedestal.

"Ugh! You all are _bratans_ you know dat? And you!" The look, what he gave Bunny, was an angry one, "You are _bratchnie_! I too weel not t'ink dat in morning, but until now-" and with that, North stormed off to be left to sulk.

Bunny glared at the spot where he had left for a bit longer, then followed, Tooth and Sandy watching with wary looks. There was no way he was letting the man drop the subject so quickly. No way on earth. "North!" The door swung open under his force.

"Go 'way!"

"No! I ain't goin' anywhere mate!" He hopped into the workshop where North was fiddling with one of his trains. "You know what I mean, and ya know it's right!"

North didn't look up.

"You've gotta give the kid a break! He's three hundred years old! I mean, sure, he can be a brat sometimes! An' the kid gets on my nerves! But he's tryin'. His efforts, they're _dinki-di_, North! He means it!" The man didn't respond and Bunny exhaled loudly. "D'ya know, last month, he offered ta help me, me, with my eggs. Came right down, 'e did, and said 'Bunny, I'll help ya with anythin' ya need!' 'E said that! And North, that's a bloody oath!" He hopped forward, "Ya want him ta be part'a this family-"

"More den any'ting!" It was the first time that the man had spoken, and when Bunny really looked there was a flush of shame crawling up his neck and out of his beard.

"Well, the kids makin' an effort. But mate, if ya don't take a fair suck of the sav, an just listen ta' him... I think... he's gonna leave North, if ya don't! He's good at leavin'. Next thing ya' know, he'll be flat chat or flat out. Ya know that?"

North nodded, "It's just... tradition..." The man looked at Bunny once more, fingers toying with the brand new train, "I am very bad a breaking, da?"

"Yea', you were always one ta like that stuff."

North sighed. "I vill consider changing list. Not saying yes, but..."

"Ok! That's good 'nuff fer now!" The rabbit raised his hands in surrender.

"And Bunny, I am sorry for-"

Bunny waved him off before he could continue. "It's fine, mate. We both said some stuff." Then he turned, hopping out.

"Vhere are you going?!"

Bunny turned, but opened up a hole in the floor nonetheless, "I'm gonna find that little ankle-biter. He says he has some kinda tradition too. And I figure if 'es anything like you, and he is, then tradition won't be an easy thing ta' break." He shook his head. "I'm just nervous."

"At vhat?"

"Don't wanna see what his tr'dition is, mate. Three hundred years alone," he shook his head, ears flopping, "... I'm just nervous, is all." And then he hopped down the rabbit hole.

* * *

Jack had made sure that he'd created a white Christmas. He'd gone as fast as he could and worked harder than he'd ever worked in his life. And by the end, almost every country had a light frosting of snow covering it. If the snow wouldn't stick either from heat or possibly too much water- he'd made sure that the snow didn't stop. At least for a while. And the places where snow was more of a seasonal thing were covered, houses weighed down with white roofs and transparent ornaments decorating the gutters.

He'd done it for the Guardians. Maybe they'd be proud of him this year. His very first Christmas as a Guardian was not something he wanted to mess up.

And then, after all this was over (and the process had taken a few good hours) he'd gone back to his lake. The moon was hovering high in the sky at that point, lunar lace tracing its way down the stars and reflecting off frozen waters. He stared at its image against the ice that covered the lake. And then his gaze drifted to that of his snowpeople. They were standing off of the bank, as silent as ever. His ever-quiet-family. It was strange. They were the ones who knew everything about him -hopes, fears, dreams- and came back every year at Christmas Time just to hear them all again. None of them -hopes, fears, dreams- ever really changed. They'd probably heard it all a hundred times. Three hundred, really. Same difference.

And he'd made them again. Like he did every year. The three of them staring at him with their acorn eyes, waiting for him to make the first move.

"Sorry I was late this year..." Jack moved his eyes back to the frozen lake. "I was busy."

Silence.

"I had to help some people this year. My family, I think." Blue eyes met acorns, "I have people this year. Kind of. They're... they're the Guardians. Do you know them?"

Silence.

"I guess you've heard of them. Everyone has... even if they don't know who they really are. Anyway, last year... I kinda helped them out. And now I'm with them. Except... I'm not. Does that make sense?"

Silence.

"It's Christmas. I know it's cheesy and commercial... but I always thought that when you had a family, you spent Christmas with them. And wore cheesy sweaters with little reindeer and snowflakes on them and then took a picture and sent it to a ton of people who threw it out anyway. Unless they keep it and hold it against you forever. I dunno..." He shrugged and wiped at his stinging eyes. "I checked the list again... North doesn't know that I did. But I did. Is that bad?"

Silence.

"Of course it is. You're right... but I guess that's why..." Again, another swipe at the eyes. "I was on the top of the list still. The naughty list. And I was... circled. In red. He just... he doesn't think..." He turned to the snowpeople and stared at them, trying to see if after three hundred years of listening, one of them would finally answer. "Can I change? Do you think he'd let me? Honestly. I want you to tell me right now. Can I change?"

"..."

Silence.

Jack sunk down further into the snow and held his staff harder in his hands. He felt something run down his face and he stubbornly scrubbed at it, forcing it to go away and leave him alone. He didn't need anyone. That was the point. He didn't care. He had never cared and he wouldn't care now. He'd treat that like any other Christmas and go along with it all. And then maybe after that, he'd go and spread more snow over the world. He'd avoid them all and in the end he'd say that he'd been doing his job. That was the excuse he'd use. And it was a perfect one to use over and over again. For the next three hundred years if he had to.

Looking next to him he saw the gifts he'd brought for the snowpeople. This year, though, they'd been joined with four other gifts. Ones that he'd had plans of giving to real people, who could take and accept gifts. People that he cared about. Tracing the lines on North's gift Jack wondered whether or not to just leave it out in the open. Like he did every year. Someone would find it.

Jack stood, three gifts in hand and faced the snowpeople, another one of his strained smiles on his face. "Merry Christmas..." voice hushed.

"Don't look very Merry ta' me."

Jack dropped the gifts in surprise, the three ice sculptures shattering at his feet and into the snow. He was on his knees in seconds, examining the shards numbly. "_Shoot_..." Behind him he could hear Bunny shift from foot to foot, but make no move to come forward. So instead he tried to connect the pieces of present together, ignoring the twisting in his stomach.

"Frostbite..." Bunny was hesitating. "What were those... and who are they?"

Jack didn't answer for a few seconds, still trying to fix the broken presents. Finally he gave up, wiping at his eyes and standing up, his hand curling around one of the broken presents. It had been a penguin. The smallest snowperson liked penguins. He focused on it instead of the Pooka.

"They're presents..." voice small, flat.

"Them?" A paw gestured to the three snowpeople and Jack glanced behind him, then back at the present, which he lifted in his hand for emphasis.

"No. These. But now they're broken..."

"So then who'r they?"

"They're..." how was he going to say it? What was he supposed to say? There really was no way of making anything he was about to tell Bunny sound good. So instead he stayed quiet, curling in on himself.

"Frosty?"

"They're my... family."

Bunny must have choked or something, judging by the sound that followed. Jack's head whipped up to look at the wide eyed Rabbit.

"Oh _god_..." he rubbed his temples with his paws, "I told North I'd hate to hear it. But... I really hate it now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Them!" Once more looking towards the three snowpeople. "They ain't family, Frosty!"

"Well... they're my Christmas family then."

"What's that even mean?"

Jack could feel the blush as his face heated itself up. Against his pale skin he was sure that it was evident. "I mean... I just..." he was stuttering, tongue tying itself up. "I dunno. They're tradition!" As if that would make sense. "You have traditions, right? Big sweaters? Food? Family? Bad pictures and stuff like that? Well... these guys are mine! Except they don't have big sweaters because they'd melt. And I can't knit. But if I could, they'd wear big sweaters too." He was rambling now, almost scared of the look that he'd get. "Do you wear big sweaters?"

Bunny stared at him for a good minute, a look of... something... on his features. Disbelief, sadness and maybe a little pity. Whatever it was, Jack didn't like it. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could he was interupted. "Sweaters? What's'ya... nevermin'! Doesn' matter! What matters is..." the rabbit was pushing past him in order to bend down and look the tallest snowperson in the eye. "You did this fer three hundred years!?"

"Yes! Can you- stop looking at them like that!"

"They don't got feelings, Jack. I'm gonna stare at 'em anyway I damn please."

"No!" He dropped the present, the penguin finally breaking into too many small shards to even see a penguin. He tugged at Bunny's elbow, dragging him away. "I don't want you near them!"

"Jack! What'r ya-"

"Just get away from em!"

Bunny finally was forced backwards, stumbling over his large feet, and his place was replaced by Jack. The young man brushed off the snowpeople, each one carefully. Smoothing out features and making sure they kept their original shape. The largest one was a little tilted, probably from the ground shaking when Bunny had hopped forward. But the other two had suffered no real damage, and he smiled, almost relieved.

"Snowflake?" He got no answer, so he tried again, "Frostbite!"

"What?"

"Who are they?"

"I told you. They're my-"

"No. I mean, who are they... really?"

Jack didn't look back, just brushed off the tallest one again. There was a sound from behind him, a light thump thump as large paws trudged through snow. And then he was being slowly led away from the three snowpeople, the acorn eyes staring holes into his back. None of them made any move to try and stop him from leaving. They just... let him get taken away. And something inside to Jack broke again. Three hundred years. Those three snowpeople knew more about him than anyone else. They'd known him for three hundred years, and they still didn't help him. They just stared at him. Acorn eyes always staring.

He was led a little ways off, but never away from the lake. Jack assumed it was for the comfort of the moon, making the water glow. It did help, if only a little, to calm his quickly splitting nerves.

Bunny sat him down on a rock facing the snow people, and then kneeled down, his tall form blocking them from sight. When the green eyes came into vision, Jack looked down.

"Frostbite?"

"What?" Stay calm. Stay cool. Snark, if needed. Do not lose cool. The creed continued in his head. He wished he could see his snowpeople.

"D'ya make those three blokes every year?"

"One of them's a girl." It was a stupid correction. But he felt the need to protect their dignity, even if they couldn't protect him.

Bunny sighed. "Fine. D'ya make them every year?" Jack nodded. "And'ya have christmas with them every year?" Another nod. "And I'm guessing that the stuff that broke-"

"Presents." Jack almost wanted Bunny to stop, so said what he had to before it came from the other's mouth. Hearing it all out loud was too much. There was a tickle behind his eye and vision clouded. God his life sucked. He was crying... again. Why was he crying so much? He hadn't cried in three hundred years. Why start now. He swiped at his eyes to try and dry them, but only succeeded in smearing ice over his cheek where it stuck like a speed skating track. "Every year... I give them presents..."

"Why?"

"..." Why did he do it? "Because," he was answering it for the first time, "that's what families do." He looked up at Bunny, "Right?"

Bunny looked taken aback. Motu opening and closing like a fish, trying to think of an answer. His eyes, flickering back and forth, larger than Jack had ever seen them. And guilt was clear in every feature that flashed itself across his face. Slowly, ever so slowly, the rabbit turned on his heel to stare at the snowpeople. Their acorn eyes looked him back in his green ones, forever emotionless. And the more they stared the worse he felt. The tilted snowperson was giving Bunny a lopsided grin.

It looked like some sort of family photo, an image stuck in time.

He turned back around to face Jack, mouth still hanging. "God..." that was all he could think to say. It must have been the wrong thing, because Jack's head flopped down. Shame. He was ashamed.

Unrightfully so.

Bunny should have been that one.

He stared at the snowpeople one last time. They were still staring at him. Somehow, with his deepest of imaginations, he could picture Jack, their Jack, his Frostbite, making those snowpeople every year. Giving them presents. And still, even after that, asking nothing in return. Not even for a real family. Just those same snowpeople, year after year.

The acorns stared.

Bunny sat down next to Jack, snow settling on the back of his legs, but he didn't mind. He just let his form slouch as he stared and stared at the snow beneath his feet. The frozen water that had no emotions or feelings or ability to love another person. Jack's family. He almost felt bad for stepping in it now, but shook that feeling away. It stayed.

Jack was still next to him, surprisingly. The boy was known for his hit and runs. Bolting, it always seemed, was his specialty. And now he sat there like he'd been deflated, head hanging, arms tucked around himself, knees drawn in tight. Sad, alone, taken away from everything he'd had... even those snowpeople who waited obediently for him every year without fail.

"God I'm awful."

Jack's eyes popped open and his head came up next, twisting to stare at the rabbit. Bunny's eyes were firmly fixed on the ground. "God... I'm just bloody awful."

"Wha- No! No you're not!" Jack wiped at his face, clearing all signs of sadness. Sure, Bunny was cranky sometimes. Most of the time, really. But awful? Never.

"Yea... I am." He sighed, his own form slowly deflating. "I left ya'lone. For three hundred years, I left ya'lone."

"You didn't-"

"I did." Jack clamped his mouth shut. Bunny's voice was deadly serious, like he knew exactly what he was saying. "I could've done somethin' and I didn't. Three hundred bloody years. And look where that's left ya'." A weak paw gestured to the acorn eyes, still staring. "With that for a family." Bunny cursed under his breath, his paw running over his ears, now flat against the back of his head. "I'm sorry, Frostbite."

There was more silence. Jack pushed the snow around with his foot, glaring at the snow, determined to find a way to pick up his friend. "Well... I kinda did deserve it."

"No!" Bunny was once again in front of him, faster than Jack could have forseen, "No! Don't ya ever say that!"

"But you-"

"I don't care what I said! Ever! What I said was... wrong. Just... bloody wrong." His eyes shut tightly for a moment, head shaking, "I was aggro with ya'! That's all! All it ever was! But never- i shouldn' 'ave..."

"Bunny... it's okay-"

"No it's not! Jus' belt up, Jack! It ain't okay!" Bunny was up on his feet now, pacing, feet frozen and numb. "Jack! _Yer makin' snow families_! Ya think that tellin' me it's alright will make it all fine and dandy! Bob's yer uncle an' all that! But it _won't_! Yer makin' bloody snow families, Jack!"

The height, the yelling, the use of his name, all too much for today. He'd been here to do one simple thing. Give presents to his family. Tradition. Do what he did every year. Stare at blank eyes and feel like they could, maybe, see him. Inclusion. Acceptance. Something.

"I'm... sorry..." he shifted back, almost frightened.

"Gah! Don't say that! I could just... I will job ya if ya say that again!" And by the way his fists were flying above his head, it almost seemed like he meant it. "You've got a- a... snow fam'ly!"

Jack was glaring at the ground again. "They were all I had..."

"Ya don't think I know that!?"

"... No one else wants me."

Bunny stopped his rant, turning to look down at the winter Guardian. Chest heaving from shouting, ears quivering in anger, paws clenched into fists.. Anger that he could feel towards no one but himself.

"Wanted."

Jack's gaze once again found his way to Bunny. And it followed him as he once more sat beside the Guardian of Fun. "Wanted," Bunny repeated. "But now... want."

"Want..." the word was choked out. A long pause followed. "I had to make them... th-the snowpeople. They... they w-were there for m-me... every y-year... so I... I owed th-them that m-much. I g-guess." Jack stared at the acorn eyes. They stared back. Still emotionless. Still stagnate in form. Unchanging. He was learning to hate that. Unchanging. Look where it got him- still giving presents to snow people. "I didn't f-feel invisible. S-so I g-gave them presents. I didn't g-get any anyway..."

There was another pregnant pause. And then Jack felt a warm arm guide itself around his shoulder, and he was pulled gently onto his friends side. "That wasn' fair." Bunny's paw gently rubbed Jack's arm, a comforting motion, "wasn' fair at'all." Pulled him closer. "I am so sorry, Jack."

Maybe it was the statement, or maybe it was just that Bunny was using his name, for the first time, in something other than endearment, but that was all Jack could hardly. Burying his face into the fur near Bunny's chest, he allowed himself to finally be enveloped in the hug that the snowpeople had never been able to give. Three hundred years, and no one had ever reached out and hugged him. Not once.

And now here was Bunny, pulling Jack close and hugging him.

And it was honestly just what Jack needed.

He apologized a few times, muffling through a stuffy nose, for making Bunny's fur wet or that maybe he was too cold. And that just left him feeling the vibrations as Bunny laughed, ruffling his hair slightly. And they stayed like that for a little while. The two of them. Jack underneath Bunny's arm, paw moving up and down his sleeve.

"I got you a Christmas present..." The words came much later, and were said in the smallest of voices. Bunny almost jumped, but chuckled instead.

"Ya didn' have ta'."

"I did." Face revealed, a pink nose and clear eyes, "I did."

"Well yer nice."

Jack's turn to chuckle, "Can I give it to you?"

"You wanna wait till we get back?" Jack shook his head. More personal if they were alone. "Right then, off ya pop."

He had forgotten his staff near the snowpeople, so opted for running through the mess of slush until he reached the present pile. Three of them shattered already, but they hadn't been made for anyone really. Traditional, he thought. Staring at the pile of translucent figurines he plucked one from the stash, only stopping once more to pick up his staff.

The wind picked him up easily and he landed a few feet in front of Bunny, arm extended. "Here."

"What is it?"

"Ya gotta take it!"

He dropped it into the waiting palm and stepped back a few paces, nervous. "Well?" Silence. Jack shifted, nervous now, "I know it's not much, but-"

"Frostbite?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut yer gob, will ya?" The rabbit waited a moment, and when he heard nothing he examined the present closer. An ice figuring, so intricately carved, it would seem almost impossible to create. But somehow, it had been created. An egg, about the size of his own palm. The designs swirled around it, all of them bits and pieces of his past, present, future. A warren, flowers, butterfly wings -he suspected that was for Sophie- a golem face (one happy, one angry), the number 68 (he chuckled at that one), boomerangs, a silhouette of Australia, a kangaroo (that actually had him snorting), and last but not least, them. Five faces, cutouts of their shapes, decorated the center. North in the center and the rest of them following.

He didn't miss how Jack had placed himself next to him.

"It won't melt!" Jack blurted out. "Phil helped me with that! I asked him last time I was in North's workshop. So... you can take it into the warren an' nothing will happen to it." More silence followed. "Do... do you like it."

He guessed it was a yes when Bunny stood and hugged him again. "I love it, Frostbite." Jack stood for a moment, paralyzed. Then he relaxed and melted, arms responding. "Love it." The hug ended, tall from crouching, "an... I kinda got ya a gift too." Reaching behind him he pulled out an egg. "One'a my best googies, if I do say so m'self. Won't spoil either." He tossed it and Jack caught it easily. Turning it around and around in his hand. Light blue with snow designs, each one different. Patterns etching their way around the smooth surface of the shell.

"Wow..."

"I'm takin' that as a good sign, mate."

Jack bobbed his head. "It is..."

"Good." Bunny retreated a bit, tapping on the ground and opening a tunnel. "Now, c'mon. Back home. We're gonna get you a propper Christmas. No more'a this snowman stuff."Returning to Jack's side for a moment, he gave him a sort of one-armed hug. "It's about time ya' were part'a a real family."

Jack tore away, but only to look behind him at the acorn eyes, waiting for them to do anything. Maybe say something.

"No," the tallest would say, "don't leave! You have us! You're family!"

"Yeah!" The middle one would smile wider, "Three hundred years, we've been with you now. You owe us this much."

"Stay!" The smallest eyes would finally glitter with emotion, "stay with us, Jack! We're your family! All you have!"

But they didn't say that. They just stared at him with their acorn eyes and stayed where they were.

"Give me a minute." Jack strode towards them, eyes fixated on the acorn eyes. Bunnymund didn't try to stop him, just let him do what he had to. Jack continued forward, but stopped a few feet away. Instead he bent down and scooped up his other gifts. Then, with one last look at the snowpeople, Jack turned and hopped down the rabbit hole, saving one last look at Bunny.

"Will I have to wear a big sweater?"

"Wha' is it with you an-?"

"Nevermind."

And both Guardians were gone.

* * *

North had reached Santoff Claussen in record time, parking in the garage and toting his empty gift bag behind him.

"Ve are finished!" He was met with hearty applause from the elves and yeti's, the Guardian's assembling by the globe to offer their own happy faces to the lot. "Record time!"

"Congradulations, North!" Tooth flew forward, twittering, "Another successful Christmas?"

"Most definitely! And is Jack-" He looked around and saw the Guardian, standing by Bunny almost timidly. "Jack!" The large man practically skipped forward, enveloping the skinny teen in a spine cracking hug. "So glad you came, kalanchá! Thought we would be celebrating wit'out you!"

"Y-yeah!" he weezed, attempting to pat the mans shoulder, but failing from his position. "S-so did I!"

"A'ight North, but the buy down 'fore ya suffocate 'im." Jack was dropped to the floor, catching his breath.

"Th-thanks!"

"Come, Jack!" He didn't even have time to stand before he was being dragged again, this time down to the library. "Ve continue tradition, da?"

"Yeah, sure…" he looked to his side to see Sandy floating happily next to him. "Whats the tradition?"

The images depicted next were little help at the time. A mug, a present, a sleeping bag, cookies, some sort of turkey… maybe?

"Umm…" It was all Jack could say before he was pushed into the library and left to see what was around him.

The tree was magnificent. That was all he really saw. Not the garlands on the door, or the wreathes, or any other part of the decked out room. Just the tree in the center, staring down at him from the unimaginable height. Tinsel and ornaments and small traditional candles. He hardly even noticed the small pile of presents on the bottom. Just took in the entire room.

"Yet's good decorators, no?"

Jack finally breathed. "It's amazing!"

"Good!" North was at his side, patting him on the back and almost bowling the boy over in the process. "Now! Go find your present under tree! I go get hot chocolate."

"Can you make mine cold chocolate, I cant really drink- wait, what?"

North's finger was pointing towards the tree. "Find present! Tag will say Jack on eet! Ees tradition, no?"

"I- I don't remember." He looked behind North towards the three other three Guardians, all looking at him encouragingly. "I don't know…" His hand reached into the pocket of and touched the Easter egg. "I don't remember…"

"Vell den, go and try to make new tradition!"

Jack nodded, but didn't do anything. He just stared at the pile of presents.

"Mate?"

"I'm going." And he did, tiptoeing forward toward the tree. It was easy to find his own presents, three in total, wrapped in green shiny wrapping. "Can I…"

"Just open them!" Tooth was about to burst with excitement. "Come on!"

Jack nodded, picking up one of them. "This one?"

"That one's mine!" Tooth was at his side, and soon all the others too. Bunny's hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to the floor where he sat. All of them followed suit around him, sitting in a circle and watching expectantly. He stared at them, fingers fiddling with the paper. "Open it!"

Eyes drifted down to the wrapping, fiddling some more. He honestly had no idea of what to do with it. His first Christmas present in three hundred years. What was he supposed to do. Following Tooth's directions he slowly tore at the present, corner by corner, careful not to rip any of the paper itself.

What he revealed was a long box. Gold. His face, brown hair and eyes. "It's for when you're ready," Tooth cautioned, "and only when you're ready!"

Jack's throat was once more constricted, so he just nodded." Another package was once more thrown into his lap, soft. Looking up, Sandy was crossing his arms. "Thanks." Opening it he found himself holding… "shoes?"

Sandy looked angry and pointed protectively at bare feet and Jack laughed.

"Will do, Sandman."

Placing the shoes to the side he reached for the last one, almost afraid. Fingers hesitated, barely grazing the paper.

"Jack!" He jumped, North back behind him. How such a large man was so quiet, he'd never know. But there he was, with a pencil in hand. "Open present now!"

"But… I'm on the-"

"Naughty list? Yes. You are. But open present now! Ess Bunny's idea!"

"Whoa… what was, mate?"

"Just open!"

The package was torn open after that. And a large book sat in his lap. The words List inscribed in the front.

"Is this…?" A large hand was in his vision, and soon the book was flipped open.

His name flashed at him.

1. Jack Frost

Circled in the red mark.

"An' here ees present!" The pencil shoved into his hand. "Go on! Erase name!"

"Wha-"

"You write name into nice list."

Jack stared at the pencil. And then at North, smiling kindly down at them. Bunny shrugging his shoulders,

"Wasn' my idea, mate."

Tooth waiting expectantly. Sandy clapping silently.

Jack's hand traced his name. Vision shaky. Heart pounding. The pencil shivered in his grip. "… Really?"

"Go on!"

The pencil was down on the paper in a second, the red marks and the letters were gone in less time than that, the only trace of them being small shavings of pink. And the book was once more flipped to the nice list.

J-A-C-K

Every letter was almost an adrenaline rush in itself.

F-R-O-S-T

Staring down at his name, messy handwriting varying from North's loopy scrawl.

"Look at that!" Bunny leaned over, smiling almost proudly down at the words. "You made it!" A curt nod. "Y'deserved it."

"You think?"

"Absolutely! Da! Da!" North took the book from his lap, slamming it closed. "But spot can change. Must work on keeping your place."

Jack was on his feet in an instant. "I will! I swear!"

"I know you vill." The look North gave him was a fond one. "Now! You stay here, correct? No tradition that must be kept?"

"Not anymore. Bunny kinda... talked me out of it."

"Good! Now you have new traditions! With family!"

Family.

Jack looked over the room, the four guardians in turn looking back at him. Family. They weren't snowpeople. There was no trace of an acorn eye in sight, and all of their emotions were clear on their faces.

Love, regret, happiness, joy, awe...

Snowpeople had never looked at him like that...

"Yeah... family." His eyes lit up. "I forgot! I got presents for you!" Before any one of them could comment he was off in a flash, zipping to find the small pile he had constructed.

Later that night, after the first real meal Jack had eaten in three centuries, and after the hot cocoa had been drained and the presents Jack had brought were 'oohed' and 'aahed' over, they were all situated in the library, blankets in hand and sitting in a circle. North entertained them with stories of past Christmas adventures, and Jack listened on with wide eyes.

Once in awhile North would look towards Jack and say, "remember dat?". He always did. He'd been there, making the snow fall.

And then, all of them tired, and dream sand heavy in the room, their forms were flopped down in the room. Fire crackling, smell of eggnog and roast turkey still thick in the air. It was the most comforted Jack had ever felt in his life. Sandy and Tooth sitting next to one another on the carpet, North in one of the larger red chairs he'd pulled from his workspace, Jack and Bunny sitting next to each other on the small sofa. Well... Bunny had sat there. Jack had just waited to see where he'd go and then settled next to him.

More stories were shared, more tales swapped, and by the end all five of them decided to turn in. Or at least, Sandy determined when that would happen. Against their pleas for 'five more minutes' he waggled a finger and dusted a fine sprinkle of gold sand over the room. Tooth was out like a light, North quickly following -head leaned back and snores emanating loudly- Bunny beginning to drift off. Jack fought it, though. He was good at that sort of thing, fighting sleep. So instead he just moved closer to his friends side, and was pleased when Bunny -almost instinctively- wrapped an arm around the Winter Guardian and pulled him closer.

Jack made himself comfortable, and leaned into his friends side. For a while he just listened to the sounds around him. Waited for the sand to take effect.

"Hey Bunny?"

"Mmm?" Arm swung over his eyes, and the sound that came out was little more than a mumble.

"Thanks. So much." His hair was promptly ruffled, a smile set on his face.

"Yer my fm'ly now..." Bunny yawned and cracked open one emerald eye, "I'm s'possed to look out fer ya..."

"Well... you're doing a good job."

"I'm trying, Frostbite."

Elves scampering down halls, the sound of bells sweet and melodious next to the whistling of wind that tapped on the windows.

"Hey Bunny?"

"... yeh..."

"I know you don't like Christmas much... But Merry Christmas."

A pause. For a minute, Jack thought his friend asleep. But said friend stirred, pulling Jack even closer and smoothing down the unruly locks. "Ya know what... I think I'm starting ta like Christmas." A smile. "Merry Christmas, Jack. An' next time, don't go spendin' it with no snowpeople. They've got Frosty ta' entertain' 'em. You h'wever, have priorities."

"Got it."

"Now go ta' sleep, ya biter. 'For I get Sandy ta' come over here an' slap ya'."

So Jack settled next to his friend, finally forcing his eyes closed.

Fire crackled.

Eggnog drifted through from the kitchen.

Smells of North's Russian whiskey, herbs from turkey, woodsmoke.

Sound of Bunny's breathing rumbling against his ear, wind whistling to him go to sleep.

Family lying together in a library.

Jack was sure that somewhere out in the world, three snowpeople sat alone by a lake. And for a moment, he felt bad. But one peek at the room around him had that feeling running for the hills. He had family.

Naughty or nice, good or bad, no matter what list his name ended up on, he'd never spend Christmas alone again.

More importantly, he'd never, ever, have to live life alone.

They'd make sure of that. Or at least, Bunny would.

* * *

**And that's it, people! New updates coming possibly tomorow! I've also got the next two ready for after that! So expect some more stuff coming! **


	8. Pool Party

**OMG PEOPLE! THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE COMMENTS ON THE LAST CHAPTER! I had no idea so many people would like it so much! Or even _cry_ about it as much as all these people did! Really glad I can get some emotions swinging out there! And sorry, this one wont be as emotional. But the next, _next_ one should be.**

**And before I start, just to let you know, I put a sort of a "wave" towards one of the other one-shots in this fic. Hint. IT'S JUMPER! Anyone who finds the line gets a cookie!**

**Now onto the note!**

**Sorry I didn't update sooner! Trying to update **_**all my other stories! **_**Including "Love is Patient". That's my other RotG fic, by the way people! **_**Yes**_** it's an OC fic. But it is NOT a Jack x OC fic! What is this now? Yeah, I think I'm one of the few on this site who didn't pair an OC with him. I've read a few of those, and some of them are actually REALLY good! But, I figured there were just too many of those. And besides! Whenever I look at Jack I see stuff like... this! Never romance. Just... fluff! Fluffy fluffy fluff. Or angst. Whatever floats yer boat!**

**Anyway, I'm sorry again! I went on vacation to a magical and amazing place called the woods! And let me tell you, it was awesome when we got there. We had a cabin there that was really secluded, so that was cool in itself. But then, just to top that off, it started to snow! WE GOT 2 FEET OF THE STUFF, PEOPLE! And then, just to make myself super happy, I got together every single kid and organized a gigantic snowball fight. I got weird looks at first (17 and still doing THAT?) but after a while we had a few grownups out there too! And sledding was awesome! And then, just to add onto it, I screamed "THANK YOU JACK FROST" at the top of my lungs. Now half my family thinks I'm insane. But I've never felt more proud! **

**That is... until I got sick and cursed every single possible god in the sky. Achoo.**

**And a quick shout out to a few people! **

**Tenshira, ello, Sunny Lighter, CatLover2906, Wragziez, msmhtp, Shizuku Tsukishima, isthisparadise, TMNTDisneyFan and Guest****! You all suggested different ideas! Well... that's not true. About 8 out of 10 of you suggested for a general idea. Jack getting hurt. And the other two asked for two ideas that were just as heart wrenching. Well guess what guys? All together, your powers of recommendations have been combined over a three day writing process to create an angsty/fluffy/depressing as hell fic! Go on! Shake hands! You guys are amazing!**

**That fic will be coming after roughly three more I'd say. Pool Party, Jumper part 3, one more fuzzy fic to kind of lighten the mood. Then I throw you to the wolves.**

**I was already planning on writing a Jack gets hurt fic. But then I got about ten requests for it. So I basically said 'screw it', and scrapped my original light and fluffly hurt fic for something so depressing and angsty that... well... I'll just let you read that when it comes! Be prepared, though, for some serious angst, fluff, tears, the works! You thought Jumper was sad? Ha. Just. You. Wait... ;)**

**A quick shout out to Shizuku Tsukishima. She was my beta for this, and did an amazing job. I'd also like to wish her good luck on her admissions for college! Good luck, girl! You'll do great!**

******Ok peeps, here it is! FINALLY! Just as I promised! Pool Party!**

**Now! Onto the story!**

* * *

o0o

_"One day you will do things for me that you hate. That is what it means to be family."_

~Jonathan Safran Foer

o0o

* * *

Jack stared at the waves of water that sloshed against tile walls. He glared at it, and in response it lapped teasingly near his toes. Another splash from frantic hands, gleeful giggles quickly following. Another small wave hit the blue and white ceramic squares and a few drops spewed out and hit his feet. They froze immediately and did nothing more than leave circular markings to show where they'd landed, but he still scrunched his nose and moved back a few steps.

Why did North even have a swimming pool anyway?

And why, of all activities that the man could choose from... why had holding a pool party been one of them.

Jack understood that they didn't see each other much, in fact many times they went months until their next visit, seeing each other for only fleeting moments- enough for second of small talk or (in Bunny's case) to throw an insult or quick scolding- so the occasional visit was always nice to have. For some reason it was always North who initiated these small "get togethers". Tooth had commented on it to Jack once, while he visited her in the Tooth Palace.

"I would've though," she checked the faces on a few of the memory boxes, violet eyes flicking from one to the other, landing on him only occasionally, "that after three hundred years, you'd be the one to ask us to get together!" She'd realized the words right after she'd said them, apologizing repeatedly. The years they'd ignored him were one of the Sprites few soft spots. Well... maybe not few. But it was definitely one of them. He'd waved it off, though, because in truth he'd wondered it as well.

For some reason the Guardian of Wonder was constantly determined on bringing all of the Guardians closer. And surprisingly he was succeeding. Jack thought it might have had something to do with idea of Mrs. Claus. A pure myth, of course. The white haired, flushed cheeked, pudgy woman was more of a fantasy created by humans in order to give Santa someone to be with. And it would seem that the real Santa himself had the same fantasy. He wanted a family. After Jack had turned up, the youngest of them all, a mere teen of seventeen with no family or friends or home, he had accidentally rekindled the antient need burrowed deep somewhere in that matryoshka doll- the need for a family.

And after that he'd decided that whether they liked it or not, they were going to be a family. If not for him, then at least for Jack.

What surprised Jack even more than that may have been the fact that everyone else was so compliant with the idea. There had never been a formal invitation, declaring "WE ARE TO NOW BE A HAPPY, LOVING FAMILY! DEAL WITH IT!" Everything was done is hints; some subtle and some not so subtle.

He'd send out an aurora, bright blue and green lights over the sky's, and then say it had been for the simple reason of inviting them to dinner. He had rooms that had gone unused for so long in his giant home turned into guest rooms. Color schemes matching each individual guardian. Flying over in the sleigh just to wave down at one of them. And, like now, he sometimes decided to throw some kind of party.

Who would've thunk Santa had a pool?

But apparently he did, and it was now in good use as three of the guardians splashed merrily in it's chilled waters. Bunny had been reluctant at first, but after much urging from Tooth and even more from North, he'd succumbed to the pressure and hopped in. Now he was winning some kind of made up water war that was taking place in the deep rectangle.

Jack and Sandy both sat poolside. Sandy because he didn't want to dissipate into the water and have to clean up- a messy and tedious process. Jack because... well...

Jack had never much liked water.

He'd been fine with it before he had died, though he'd never partaken in many water sports. It just wasn't done in that era- fever a constant reason for deaths, young and old. But he had never been scared of death. In fact, Jack Frost had never remembered being scared of _anything _before he had died. Quite the show off, he'd never been afraid of heights or depths, dark or light. Maybe the occasional spider and he'd never much liked fire. Besides that, there wasn't much.

As the new Jack Frost he was scared of a lot of things. And that always got to him.

Abandonment.

Loneliness.

Nightmares.

Death.

Forgetting.

And the most prominent- water.

"Immortal" Jack Frost hated water. So, like any aquaphobe, he avoided the stuff at any costs. He had had plans to miss this party, and if it wasn't for Bunny he would have. But the rabbit had gotten it into his stubborn head that the two of them were suffering partners. If he suffered, then so did Jack. Which was stupid. Because never in all his years did Jack think he'd stick around Bunny _just_ to share some stupid suffering, nor could he imagine getting all weepy over some problem the rabbit had. That was just stupid.

But here he was, at poolside, glaring at the water with murderous eyes, daring it to come closer and hit him. He'd rather freeze the whole pool first. Bunny and North and Tooth would have to deal with being stuck hips down for a while. Whatever. He'd be safe, and he could get a good laugh if he decided to skate around Bunny for a while.

"Jack!" His head shot up from the water, which he'd been staring furiously at, toward North, bobbing up and down in some ridiculous full body swimsuit- white and red stripes. "You are coming in, yes?"

"No." He leaned back, trying not to look uncomfortable as three pairs of eyes stared him down.

"No?" North back tracked, arms scooting backwards and forwards in the water, keeping him afloat. "Why? Yoo want to stay on side, staring at water like sad _obezʹyana_?"

Jack wrinkled his nose at the foreign word, pretty sure that if he knew what it meant he would not approve. And by the smirk on North's face he was sure he'd been right. "I don't wanna get it. Thas'all," he slurred it, less care seemed less afraid.

Bunny's brow furrowed and he swam closer, lean body cutting easily through transparent waters, "Why not, frostbite? Scared?"

Jack's heart leaped to his throat and he thought, for a moment, that he'd been found out. Relaxing only when he realized it was a harmless jest, a challenge that he wouldn't comply to.

"Naw. I'd just make the water too cold for you."

Bunny shrugged, water streaming off fur when he did, "Don't think we mind, mate. C'mon, off ya pop."

Jack shook his head defiantly, "No. I'm fine. I already told you. Besides..." he burrowed through his brain for excuses, "I- I'm not dressed for swimming."

"It'll freeze right off ya'." Damn, he'd been found out. "Now get in!" Bunny made a swipe for the young man's feet, and Jack scuttled backwards. His staff dropped from his grip so he could use both hands to crab walk to the wall. Panic seized his heart for a moment, and for that same moment he didn't care if they discovered his fear of water or not. He had one goal, and only one goal. To get away from the water.

It would seem that his efforts were all for naught. One of the yeti's from the workshop had wandered into the pool area to ask North a question about toy color, though he was sure it would be changed soon anyway. He'd seen the short exchange that took place over the time of a few seconds, Bunny trying to grab the man's feet and that same man trying to get away. So, like any noble helper, he'd done his job. He helped.

Walking across the tiles he'd ended up directly between the wall and the retreating Jack. Then, using one of his large and furry feet, he'd pushed Jack.

Jack slid across slightly damp tiles, listening to the slight hiss of his pants and bare feet skidding, and then feeling the immediate change of surrounding as he entered the underwater world. A large splash was all his ears heard, giggling from the others maybe, and then there had been nothing.

A swirling sound, numbing sounds from everywhere else. The splashing was deeper, the words above him were garbled, the bubbles from his fall tickled his cheek and face. And his own scream was silenced.

Memories hit him fast and hard. Sinking underneath moving water, pounding against solid ice, the sound of his own fists hitting the wall

_Ba bam ba bam ba bam_

His sisters screams, his own screams, air leaving his body in large rushes and quivering bubbles.

_Help me help me help me help me help me-_

Running out of air, lungs burning, fire hot in his chest. The edges of his vision, like an expensive frame, turning dark. Fingers slipping against a cold surface and then...

Just... giving... up...

Words. _Sorry_. _Failure. Fear. Fear. Fear. Dark. Cold. So... cold..._

Dark vision, terrible dreams, a sense of pride that he'd done something right and a similar sense of dread that he'd done something _so_ wrong.

So many memories swimming through his mind and tearing through his brain.

_Drowning, I'm drowning, I'm drowning... help me... please!_

He tried to shout it, but his lungs were empty, and when he did try he felt water swarm into his mouth, his nose, his lungs.

_Help me!_

Next thing he knew he was being hoisted out of the pool by small hands and was unceremoniously dropped onto the tiles. Everything around his was silent, the only sound being the sloshing of the water against the wall of the pool, now much more violent. He guessed that was his fault. He didn't give it much thought. He simply sat himself down from where he'd been previously lying, and touched his forehead to his knees, taking deep breaths.

More silence.

The air flowing through his lungs was some kind of reassurance to the fact that, yes, he was alive. And the slight whimpers that he had no control over were another testament to his still beating heart. The only thing that truly unnerved him was the fact that he, Jack Frost, was _shivering_. If he was cold, he couldn't tell. And yet his body told him otherwise, quaking, teeth chattering face -he was certain- turned even paler than he was now.

"Jack...?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a delicate hand placed itself on his shoulder. Azure eyes peeked over crossed arms, violet eyes staring back. Over the fairies shoulder the rest of the Guardians stood in waters, still moving even after his violent upset. All eyes trained on him. Instinctively he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up, bangs falling over his eyes- a defensive stance he's learned to take when brushing off any one of them. They'd tried to come in contact with him before, and that was simple what he did before strolling off through the treetops. And it always had worked. They'd leave in a huff, stalking in the other direction, and both parties would go on their merry way, destined to meet in another fifty years with just as explosive results.

Apparently, that wouldn't work anymore. No. Now they just _had _to worry about every single thing he did. Jack's brow furrowed in something akin to anger, aiming it at anything but the four other people in front of him.

"Sweet Tooth?" Tooth tried again, small hand reaching once more, this time to brush his bangs aside. They simply flopped back into place with no other effect.

"What?"

"Are you okay."

"Fine." He didn't mean to sound so callous. Especially to Tooth of all people. But Jack was in defensive mode. His pride, the only thing he truly owned beside the bent staff, was what he protected with his life, and felt a need to keep it that way. Safe from harm of any kind of dents. "I'm fine."

"Jack, are you sure? You looked sc-"

"I wasn't scared." He was on his feet, casually began to walk across the tiles on the floor, water freezing immediately underfoot. "Just... surprised." The staff, was scooped up, twirled once, and then left to rest on his shoulder. "I'm fine."

"Then get back in the pool." There was a sloshing sound as the voice made itself heard.

North watched Jack freeze in his spot, frost beginning to stem further the longer he stayed in one spot. All the spilled water sure to be frozen within the minute. "Bunny," his voice was low, a warning. And by the triangles floating over Sandy's head -yeild sighs- it would seem he had to the same idea. The rabbit ignored them, trekking out of the pool, not even bothering to shake the dripping water and chlorine off his fur.

"Then get back in, if you're so fine."

Jack's ears picked up the tone immidiantly. The tone he and Bunny exchanged so often. A challenge. The rabbit was challenging him, voice so low it was almost deadly. A secret on the verge of being spilled. Jack turned, flare hard set, facing Bunnymund. The Guardian of Hope had drawn himself to his full 6 foot 1 height, arms crossed and fur flat against skin displaying every etch of solid muscle that the rabbit possessed. And for a moment, the white haired child almost, _almost_, buckled under. He knew the posture. It was one that the grumpy animal took often. As much human as he acted, there was still the tiny piece of pure animal in him. The fight for superiority over any other creature he deemed weaker, the need to fight battles, win, and reign supreme. Jack was one to challenge that, and almost always one to draw them both into a standstill. On other occasions he would find himself losing. The superior pose wasn't so well practiced for no reason.

And he almost fell for it again, almost buckled under the elders gaze. Instead sizing up the other, a comical sight, and glared up. Azure meeting emerald.

"Maybe," Jack began, slowly, "I don't want to."

"That wasn't an option, _Frostbite_." A finger, pointing, "Get inta the bloody pool."

"Why?"

"Because, if yer so _fine_ you wouldn' 'ave performed that nice little drowning act. If yer so fine, you'll be totally _fine_ with puttin' yer skinny backside inta that water. So, let's go. Now." Demanding.

Jack stared at Bunny. Bunny stared at Jack.

And then Jack did the only thing he could think of. What he had been doing for three hundred years, and what he had always found to be the solution for every problem he had ever faced. The simple and perfect way to solve any kind of problem. And the way he had proven, time and time again, to work charms.

He turned around...

… and left.

Jack had always been fabulous at that. Picking up and leaving. Very, very quickly picking up and leaving. And that's what he did. Staff in hand, he quietly murmured for the winds to pick him up and within seconds he was out the door, in the air, and zipping out one of the many windows in Santoff Claussen.

There were shouts from behind him. Worried cries from the high pitched voice of Tooth and a few curses in another language altogether as cold air had swarmed the rooms, including the already cold pool water, but he was already gone, the wind hitting his face. And for a moment he felt like his old self again. There were only a few key differences:

1. He was running away from _them_. Usually, it would seem, it was simply that one group left the other at some sort of mutually decided time.

2. He had felt abandoned before. Now, he felt guilty.

3. He sped. Because some niggling portion of his brain told him that he'd be followed.

He'd never been followed before. That was the annoying part. He'd just left, and if the offending parties met again, it was out of coincidence. But from the way they'd been acting lately, there was no doubt in Jack's mind that they would soon be out to follow him, scolding ready with harsh words to follow.

Well, that wasn't true. Maybe they wouldn't follow. Maybe they'd take a hint and drop it all and then see him at the next meeting. He'd never been big on family stuff anyway. No. Wait. He'd never been _included_ in family stuff before. He was trying. Why couldn't they see that? And because of that reason, because they couldn't _see_, Jack fled.

Surfing along air currents, dipping occasionally the brush his toes along the snowy landscape. Fingers occasionally extending up to swim amongst wispy clouds just turning pink. They dragged lazily through his fingers, tickling his skin, and he allowed a small, forced smile to present himself. Yes. He did rather feel like his old self again. Prancing off rooftops and dragging idle fingertips through golden sand, the only real interaction he could have without a shove off.

"Wind," he murmured, the familiar line etched deep in his brain, "take me home."

And the wind, being the kind and mothering figure it had proven itself to be, decided that she would turn... Jack... around...

"Wha- no!" He yelped, arms flailing. "Home. Ho-o-ome!" And the wind insisted, through harsh prodding and dragging, that home _was_ that way.

"Not North's house! Home!"

Again, the pulls in the wrong direction. He kicked at the breeze, which responded in harsher tugs. "That is not my home! Home is the lake!" _No,_ the wind seemed to state, _home is back there. So I'm taking you. Lets go._

"That's the wrong way! Wind, stop!"

_No._

"Stop it!"

_No._

"Fine!" The staff was intentionally dropped and Jack plummeted, eyes staying on the curved branch. And when he felt like he'd taught the wind some sort of lesson -though he wasn't even sure what that lesson was, or even if wind _could_ learn lessons- he grabbed ahold of his precious item and floated once more in winds fevered grasp.

"Now. The lake. I want to go to the lake." Avoiding the word home all together. "Wind. Take me."

And the wind, with a strange sort of sigh, and slow glance back in the direction he'd from which he'd flown, it took him towards Burgess.

"On second thought," Jack's mind ran wild as he worked his way towards the small town, "I have a better idea."

* * *

The Guardians were masters of direction. Globes and maps were memorized, routes tried over and over again and tried in different ways. They each could travel the world in record time, then travel it again twice as fast. Advantages of flight, tunnels, and the ability to draw the other into their vehicle of choice. They truly were the masters of travel. Masters of direction. Masters of speed.

Masters of hide and seek, they were not.

They were positive, all four of them, that Jack had high tailed it out toward Pennsylvania. Much like a child storming to their room, it was Jack's safe place. His spot where he could slam the door and hide. So they'd gone there first.

But when they landed, hopped and floated into the familiar spot where Jack was usually found, _his_ lake as it had been dubbed, and found themselves looking at empty space, they were confused.

"Where is the biter, anyway?" Bunnymund rubbed at his arms, giving up on stomping his feet. They were numb anyway. "Bloody ran off, the dill."

Tooth sent a reprimanding look his way. "He ran off, _Bunny_, because someone just had to challenge him!"

"An' it's a bout time, too. Kid needs ta learn sometime."

"Learn what?"

"Bout way of life! He can't just go off an' run away like that!"

"He was scared!"

"He needs to toughen up."

"You don't mean that!"

"Well, either you take a swing att'um or I do. Either way," he shrugged, eyes firm, "someone 'eres gotta get through that thick skull'a his."

"Bunny! Tooth!" The Russian came between the fighting pair, massive fists on his waist. "This ees not time for fighting! Ees time for _finding_. Now go. Find."

Tooth and Bunny gave eachother a glare, quickly deflating into a shrug. Sandy, rising to float above the group, displayed a few symbols. A question mark. A map. A snowflake.

"Sandy's right, mate. We got no idea where the nipper went."

"Well, then..." North stroked his beard, "we think of places he might have gone. Then we find Jack!"

"He could be anywhere in the world!" Tooth was flitting nervously, her tiny hands wringing. "And he knows when we're coming! Don't forget, North, he's an elemental spirit. If so much as an air current shifts, he knows! And if he doesn't want to see us-"

"We weel find." North was confident, and gave a nod. "And we weel talk to him."

Tooth looked ready to argue, but shut her mouth, lips forming a thin line. A nod in return. "Alright."

"I'll use my tunnels an' go south."

"I'll go north!"

"And I weel go east!" The big man smiled, "Sandy, go west! Search state! And when we find, we tell others! Da?"

"Yeah, whatever mate." Already a tunnel forming in the ground. "Good luck."

And with that, they were all off, going their separate ways.

* * *

Okay. So it was a bad idea. Jack shivered as he stared at the water lapping towards his toes. Canonsburg was one of the nicer lakes in the state. A small one with no chance of night swimmers. He'd asked the wind to take him there, where he'd landed on the beach. And for a few hours he'd stared at the water in what could be seen as a contest. The water, never one for contests, went on its merry way.

And so he figured, if he was going to do anything, he might as well get it over with.

After an hour of standing a few inches from the water he had decided that the idea was stupid. Really, really stupid. If he couldn't get into a pool with five people supervising him (he shuddered at that thought... _supervision..._) then what made him think he could just strut out to open water and jump in. The chances, if any, were pitifully low. And weren't looking any better the more he stayed in his spot. And they were looking even lower the longer he lingered on the shore.

Looking out he observed the dark water. Unfamiliar. Not like his lake. Not like he really knew his lake. What lay under transparent surface was a mystery, and late at night he often liked to imagine the great serpents and monsters that hid away, gnashing their terrible fangs. But at least he knew the lake. This one wasn't his, and made the challenge altogether more... challenging.

But this was what it was all about. A challenge. The next time he went to one of those stupid pool parties, he'd jump right into the water. No one would look at him with any pity again. And the stupid kangaroo would have to eat his words. Jack would be strong! Jack would be invincible! Jack would be a hero for the ages!

But first... Jack had to actually touch the water.

The waves lapped again, and he shuffled back a few centimeters. Hands dug deep into his front pocket, fingers lacing together. He willed himself to stare at the water one last time, tiptoeing foreword. Another wave.

He shuffled back. And then just sat down.

"This sucks."

And it did. So Jack sat there for a little while, his mind beginning to think of excuses. "I was angry because I was tired." "I left because I felt like it." "You guys worry too much."

Everything but the real explanation.

"I drowned when I was 17 years old. I'm afraid of water. And I never learned how to swim."

Not that swimming would have helped much in his situation. But now, staring at open water, he realized how much the skill was needed. Water was everywhere. Not only that, he was a master of water, wasn't he? Frozen water was water nonetheless, and to be afraid of his own craft seemed to be a ridiculous statement.

Swimming had never been something to learn. So he hadn't learned it. And now, it would seem, it was coming back to bite him. Hard.

"Jack!" Jack spun around with a yelp, his staff in hand and pointing at the advisary. Then it dropped with a sigh.

"Oh... hi Tooth."

"Jack, where have you been! We were worried sick about you!"

"I was here. And you didn't have to worry," the hood was back up, "I was fine. Just needed air."

"You usually go to your lake!"

"I found a new lake." He gestured to the unfamiliar waters, glaring at them when Tooth couldn't see, "Do you like it."

"I like _your_ lake. And what were you doing out here anyway?" The fairy flew down, small feet touching the sand. She crossed her arms. "You left so fast!"

"I told you. I just needed air."

Tooth wasn't buying it. "The others are coming here. I already sent Baby Tooth -_Traitor, _thought Jack- "and we're going to get to the bottom of this!"

"Bottom of what?!" Jack began to strut past her, "there's nothing to discuss. I was angry. I left! That's it."

His elbow was grabbed and for a moment he could only marvel at how _strong_ the lady was. Wow.

"You're staying here because we all have to talk to you. And we're going to. Now sit down."

"I don't need to-"

"_Sit down, Jack._"

Jack sat. But he scowled. She couldn't stop him from scowling. So there.

He didn't have to sit and scowl defiantly for long, as reindeer, snorting and clacking, bells jingling, could be heard in the sky. The sound of magic sand, a very distinct sound, made itself known from behind. And somewhere off in the darkness, the strange hiss of ground opening and sand pouring down a deep hole. They were all there, all of them quickly advancing and all of them surrounding him. Jack tugged on the strings of his hoodie and rested his chin on his hands. Fine. They wanted to talk. They could talk. He'd just do his best to act like the stubborn teen he was.

"Tooth!" The booming voice of Wonder approached, "Good job! You find Jack!"

"Right, where's the kid."

"Bunny, be nice."

"Naw mate, done with that."

Jack's chin jabbed his forearm. This really sucked.

"I'm fine, everyone," he wiggled his toes in the sand, "so you can all just go home."

"Jack." Tooth cautioned. He sighed, sulking again.

"First, we ask question!" North sat down next to Tooth, bending at the waist to try and see under the hood. "D'en we talk 'bout leaving." Jack heard a sound to his left as another form sat down. Not as colossal as North in the fall, this owe quieter and quicker. One peek from under white bangs had him staring at exceptionally large feel. _Perfect._

"Right, Frostbite. Let's talk. What in MiM's name made ya' bloody take off like that?"

Jack shrugged. "Cuz." He flexed his pinky toe, feeling sand collecting. "That's why."

"Jack! We are trying to help!"

He looked at North for a moment. "Well I don't need it. I'm fine. I just got mad because I was thrown into the water. That's it. I don't like surprises. There, ya happy?"

"Not quite!" Tooth chirped from his side. The hand touched his shoulder and he shook it off, not daring to look up at how hurt her eyes might have looked. Her voice stayed the same, no trace of anything else there, so he assumed she'd brushed off the gesture. "We want to know why you were scared."

"I wasn't scared."

"You looked scared!"

"Well I wasn't. So that's it. I was angry." Jack stood, brushing off his pants and giving a sweeping look to the other guardians, all still sitting on the ground. "Are we done now?"

"Oh no." There was a firm grip on the back of his hoodie and he was yanked down, falling onto hard ground with an ungraceful 'oof', "Not on yer nelly, mate. Let's go. True story. Now."

"How do you know I'm even lying." He made eye contact with the rabbit. That was how the challenge began, as always. But by then, Bunny had figured out the game. Taking part in the challenge, especially now, was simply giving Jack a _reason_ to run. And he wasn't going to be that reason. So instead, Bunny's gaze became firm, the grip on the back of his sweatshirt tightening.

"Truth. Now, Jack."

And Jack slumped.

It wasn't a real slump. He just sort of... deflated. His eyes went back to the sand and his toes began to play with the tiny rocks. The hand on his back gripping his shirt gave him no way of getting out, and it also made it supremely hard to cross his arms with the fabric tighning around his chest when he did. So all he could do was sit there and stare down, hoping that the blush he could feel wasn't too visible.

"I... can't swim." There it was. He hoped they were happy with themselves. The hand loosened it's grip but didn't disappear. "I never learned." His voice stayed even and conversational, telling them only what they _had_ to know. Then maybe they'd go away. "So I don't know how. And water... I drowned. That's how I... I drowned. So I don't like going..." his hand swooped in an 'under' sort of motion. Then he shrugged. "I came here because I thought you wouldn't find me. And then I'd learn to swim. And then I could just kinda deal with pool parties after that. But I hate pool parties anyway. So I wouldn't do much. But I'd be able to swim, and that's good enough for something, right? Bragging rights maybe?" He shrugged again, then went back to sifting sand with his foot.

There was silence.

"You... drowned?" Tooth's voice came back to him. "When?"

Jack just lowered his gaze and scowled.

"Jack?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

More silence. The matter stewing amongst the group as they tried their best to drop it.

But somehow the matter was just too heavy to drop, and North leaned forward with a hum. "You never told us-"

"Because I didn't want to!" He pushed against the ground, but was dragged back down, a huff escaping his lips. "Besides... what would telling anyone do? I didn't need you to worry about my problems. You're too busy for that."

There was yet another silence as the four legends waited for someone to make a move and Jack silently dared them to.

And then-

_WHACK_

"OW!" His hand went up to the back of his head where he'd been cuffed, sending a pointed look at Bunnymund. "What was that for."

"Fer bein' an idiot. That's what. 'Parently, I gotta _knock_ sense inta'ya."

"What are you-"

"You should have come to us!" Tooth grasped his arm, tugging lightly, sending her own look at Bunny for the physical violence she so reprimanded. "Right away! Or at least _told_ us!"

"Da! Tooth is right!" Sandy over head nodded, settling on the ground in front of the youngest and flashing a smile. "You must tell us these things!"

Jack frowned, "what good'll that even do?"

"Well fer one," he was hoisted up by the back of his sweatshirt, Bunny still fisting it tightly, "We can understand it a little bit more. I mean, this kinda clears some stuff up. An' fer another thing," he began to drag the winter spirit towards the water, "we can help ya! Tha's what we're here fer, ya gumby."

"Da! Da!" North, now excited, ran to the waters edge. Sandy, following close behind, magicked up a golden deck chair, sitting down and watching eagerly. And Tooth, who now flitted between the shoreline and the small groups, smiled widely.

"He's right, Jack! Anything you need!"

"But I don't need anything-" Jack grunted as he tried to tear away from the rabbits grip, but the hold was iron. "And what do I need help with!?"

"Plen'y a' things." His staff was plucked away and dropped to the ground. "But let's start at number one." The furry arm threw Jack slightly, where he stumbled across the sand, finally regaining balance and facing Bunny, who stood tall. Jack was about to stand up to him like he had before, but had to double take when the words came out of the buck toothed mouth. "Right. Sweatshirt off."

"W-what?"

"It's too heavy, the water'll soak it up. And with you it'll freeze. Then you'll be one big heavy ice cube floatin' round, an' I ain't carryin' ya."

"Water? And what do you mean, float? I don't-"

"Well if ya expect ta learn ta swim-"

"Wait. Whoa whoa whoa, hold on." Hands raised, feet slowly backtracking, "I never said-"

"Ya need ta learn, Frostbite. And if it takes us all night, then it takes us all night." The paw shot out, grabbing a clothed arm and pulling Jack back again. "Now, sweatshirt off an' inta the water. Lets go."

Jack stared at him for a moment, resisting the urge to allow his jaw to drop. Instead he slowly, ever so slowly, took off his blue security blanket. The sweatshirt dropping to the ground leaving him in a white, flowing blouse and his brown pants. His fingers itched for the article of clothing, and he almost lunged for it, but a paw was already on his upper back, the sweatshirt thrown to Tooth, who balled it up in her arms.

"Alright, ya ratbag, feet in the water."

"But... but I don't have... I'm not... I just need... uh... um... I... um!?" Excuses were flowing freely. Apparently, in the Guardian of Hope's mind, that deserved another cuff to the side of the head, which Jack had in no way been expecting. "Ow! Stop it!"

"Then you stop yer whingeing, ya esky!"

"But I don't-!"

_WHACK_

"Ow! Lay off!"

"Then turn round an' march!" Glaring daggers at the aussie Jack slowly inched his way towards the shore line. When he was sure the ebbing water couldn't touch his toes, just barely reaching within an inch, he stopped. His toes curled themselves through the sand, and he felt the cool dirt touch the pads of his feet. From next to him there was a small splash and then some sloshing, as Bunny dragged himself quickly through the water, standing to face Jack when he was up to his calves.

"You gonna stand there all night?"

He was going to come up with some retort, but nothing came out. Instead he turned to Tooth and North and Sandy, eyes big and pleading. He didn't want to have to say it, but if they insisted, he'd ruin his pride. His reputation would be flat and he'd be a laughing stock of the century. The others seemed to want to keep his pride intact. _How kind_, he could only think dryly.

Sandy gave a little wave of his hand as if to say, get going. North was smiling at him. "Go on, Jack!" he shouted. "We are watching." _That's the problem._ And Tooth was gathering his staff into her arms along with his article of clothing, holding it hostage as she sat on the sand. So none of them were going to be any help to him at all. In short, they were throwing him to the wolves. Or rather, the bunny.

Jack's frown was set deep as he looked into the water. Under the moonlight he could just see the sand a few inches below the surface. After that, all he could see was dark. Those strange dreams of sea monsters and tentacles surfaced. Large aquatic nightmares ready to lash out and grab him, take him under the silent grave and bury him under mounds of weed and lost fishing tackle. He'd be forgotten, left alone, unable to make his way towards the comfort of the moon ever again.

"Oi, Frostbite. Been waitin' donkey's years over 'ere. Not gettin' any younger, ya'know."

Said Frostbite gave the Bunny a pleading look, one that could have rivaled that of kicked puppies and youtube cats. "Please," he whispered it low enough that the powerful ears could pick it up, but not so loud that the others would hear. "I don't _like_ water."

There was a beat in which all Jack could hear was the calls of a few owls and the wind blowing through pond reed. Somewhere off in the distance a toad roared and a frog plopped off a branch. There was a slosh as Bunny took a step forward, the depth of water decreasing.

"If yer worried about anything happening to ya..." he hesitated. It was not just Jack's pride at stake this night. "If yer worried... don't be. I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to ya. Ya just gotta trust me." He reached out his arms, stretching them, the thick muscle flexing. "Now, I ain't askin' ya ta dive in. Just walk ta me." The fingers on his paws wiggled for emphasis. "Nothin's gonna happen to ya," he said firmly when Jack didn't move immediately after. "An' look," he raised one dripping foot, "It's only a foot deep here. That ain't nothin'. So let's go, walk to me."

Jack took a deep breath and slowly inched towards the water. He kept going until just his toes were under, and he could still see them. Then, ever so slowly, went in a big farther, watching his feet the entire time. He walked forward, watching and watching his ivory toes in the water, some comfort taken from the fact that he could still see himself. The water, at his ankle, did little more than lap at his skin, but he still took it as a threat.

_Go back_, it seemed to say, lightly pushing at him, _you're meant to fly with birds, not to sink. _

The contrived threat only pulled out a sliver of Jack's stubborn nature, and he shuffled forward another few centimeters, a slight grin pulling at his lips. That faded, however, when he saw his feet begin to disappear under dark waters. He stopped. Invisible. he was invisible. Wiggling his toes his heart beat skipped a few times when, from under reflective waves, he could see only the slight outline of a foot, but nothing more. Invisible. He was invisible. He didn't want to be invisible anymore, he was done with that. Scared at the prospect of sinking and no longer being able to see himself through curtains of cool ebony, Jack halted. Eyes closed, fists balled at his sides, he told the entire world to turn as invisible as he. And from under the shades of his eyelids, he was terrified to find that his wish had come true.

Drowning in his own invisiblity.

A hand gripped lightly at his elbow and his eyes opened, still looking at the water and the thin outline of his feet.

"Few more steps, Frostbite." The hand tugged at his arm and he allowed it. Pulling him forward, he took tiny steps, watching in horror as more and more of him disappeared.

"No no no!" He took a tentative step back, but found he could was then pulled forward two, "I don't think I'm ready! Lets do it tomorrow instead! I don't want-" Jack stopped talking when he finally realized what was going on. Right next to him, smirking, Bunny held onto his elbow. Both of them in the same depth of water, though on Jack it touched higher on his shin the Bunny's. But that was just a matter of height. Something akin to... pride?... bloomed through him. The realization that he'd done _something_.

He stared at where his feet would have been, almost panicking when he saw the darkness swallowing up part of his legs. The invisibility. And then he looked next to him where Bunny's large, rather easy-to-notice feet would have been firmly planted. His, too, gone under a veil. Both of them equally invisible, and both of them regarding each other's existence with exact clarity. And somehow, that little realization, staring at two pairs of invisible feet, made him feel just a tiny bit better.

"Look at that!" Bunny's voice had him looking up, "Ya did it! Right brave, ya'are!" Jack just smiled breathlessly up at him, practically glowing under the praise. "Now, lets move a little bit deeper."

The reaction was instantaneous. Jack resisting by scuttling to get away and run back to the shore. And just as quick as he was, the arm had him even faster. Winding itself securely around his back, the other reaching to grab his shoulder, Bunny placing himself directly beside him. "Calm down, ya dag! I'm right here!" His shoulder was given a reassuring squeeze. "C'mon, we're gonna step t'gether. One step atta time. Got it?" Jack nodded, his throat dry, "Right. One." Bunny took one step, and dragged Jack. "Two." Bunny two another step and only partially tugged Jack. "Three."

By the sixth small step, Jack was walking on his own, though the arms stayed firmly fixed around him. The water almost up to his waist, he almost fell into momentary panic attacks, but then looked down at his feet. His invisible feet. And then down at Bunny's, just as unseeable.

Maybe it was the realization that he wasn't alone, that someone else was disappearing _with _him, and had been willing to disappear for him. Maybe it was because of that, that he kept moving forward. But until the water had reached his hips, Jack had walked alongside his friend. They both stood in the water, Jack rigid, but making no move to bolt.

"This isn't too bad..." Jack's voice was small, forced. he trailed his fingers through the water, and then whipped them away just as fast. He wasn't ready to come into any more contact. Not yet. "What now."

"Well, that depends." Bunnymund made a move to back away and leave Jack standing on his own, but a short whine from the youngest and he held his post. "We can either try some swimmin' _now_ and see how ya do, _or_," he added quickly, seeing the panic in Jack's eyes, "we can do some later in the pool."

Jack looked away, attempting to touch the water once more, but drawing his hand away again. "Can you teach me?" He chanced a look at the other Guardian's, lying lazily on the beach. North would be too rambunctios, Sandy couldn't touch water and Tooth was too quick. And although Bunny, he knew, was harsh, he was a born leader and teacher. And just as stubborn as Jack. He'd be able to scamper away with any of the others. With Bunny? Never.

"Course!" He said it like it was obvious, like he'd already been planning on taking up the position.

"And you promise not the push me in?"

"Not on your nelly, mate."

Jack nodded, "I'm free tomorrow."

"And coincidentally, so'm I." That earned him a shaky smile from the Guardian of Fun, whose eyes soon began to flicker back toward the beach. "One more thing," a pleading look, "I swear!" The hands left Jack's shoulders, instead allowing one to rest on his neck, the other on his lower back. "Right. Lean back into the water."

"Are you insane?"

"Ya gotta get used ta' bein in water, mate. Might as well try it here."

"But-"

"Don't start with me," the rabbit's gaze was nothing less of a reprimand. "Lean back."

Jack shook his head.

Bunnymund breathed loudly through his nose. "Listen, Frosty, we aren't gonn' get anywhere tomorrow unless we do this!"

"Why not?"

"Because ya gotta trust me." The hand from his lower back left, resting itself just below his rib cage where it pushed slightly, telling him to lie backwards. "Everything's gonna be fine. An who knows! Maybe you'll have fun instead!" The words hit him hard and wide cerulean eyes looked up at emerald ones in shock. Aster had had no idea of his past, had never pried or asked to know more. Only knew what he observed. And those words, those hauntingly familiar words, would have never come up in any conversation, never muttered by the spirit. The spirit who thought he'd never have to say them again.

Apparently he had been right. he didn't have to say them again. Someone else had stolen that role, and now was saying it to him.

With a quick nod and a swallow down a dried throat, Jack slowly leaned backward, allowing the hand on his back to support him. For a moment he hovered in an awkward backbend, shaking as his entire body came close to being taken under.

"Relax, Frostbite..." the words were muttered, "ya gotta relax." He nodded again and let himself slowly fall back the rest of the way.

Water touched the tip of his ear, and skimmed along his back and legs, but did little more. And when he finally had the courage to lift his feet from the muck on the bottom, another hand supported him making sure that he stayed afloat.

"Yer stiff as a board!" Jack's eyes trailed along the water, looking up at the moon for some sort of help. And there they stayed glued. So what face Bunny had taken up was a mystery. From the tone it would seem instructional. "Ya gotta relax!" Whatever that meant, he didn't want to do it. "Just take a breath. An' fer gods sake stop makin' a fist! Yer makin' ice go up my arm! I ain't gonna let ya sink, so calm down!"

Cautiously Jack unfurled his fingers, a chill passing up his spin. he heard Bunny hiss, most likely from another quick shot of frost, but took the advice and allowed two deep breaths to pass through tense lungs. His entire posture began to loosen, and he lay idly, floating on the water and staring at the moon.

Feeling a touch of bravery, Jack closed his eyes, "You can try to let go now."

"Whad'ya mean, mate?" the voice above him was smirking, "I already did."

Arms went ridgid and he felt his form becoming a rock, but the hands that he never noticed missing, were back. "Alright, calm down! Yer doin' fine." He breathed a thanks. And for another moment he allowed the hands to keep him there, floating on top of the water. The fear was still there, unsettling. But at least he had an idea that he wasn't alone. He wasn't alone out here. There was someone else with him. "Ya still scared?"

He didn't answer.

"Frostbite?"

"A little."

"A little what."

"A little scared." Jack's voice stayed small. "I don't like water." A pause. "But... I feel safe."

"That was the plan." Bunny slowly lifted him back to his feet where he stumbled for a moment, glad to have pond muck between his toes once more. "Ready to go back now?"

Jack had never agreed with someone faster in his life."

* * *

Back on the shore, hoodie on his body and North clapping him on the back, Jack shook tiny ice chrystals from his hair.

"An' member," Bunny was walking behind him, "we're gonna have ya' really _swimming_ tomora'. That means under water. Got it?"

"Yeah." Sandy, floating beside him, flashed a sybmbol of a beachball. Smiling, holding up one thumb. "No. I don't think I'm ready for that yet, Goldy." He looked a little let down, but beamed at the new nickname.

"Tomorrow ees tomorrow!" North shooed away all other thoughts, "right now, we congratulate for job well done!"

"Sweet Tooth, do you want to go back to your lake? Or are you coming back with us?" She rubbed his shoulder, then took to examining his face, "You look exhausted! What you need is a good nights sleep. Will you be able to sleep at your lake?"

"I used to sleep in trees, Tooth," Jack reminded her, missing the looks he got from that one. "I'm used to it." he suppressed a yawn.

"Alright. But at least let us drop you off, alright?" Tooth wasn't going to be without her Jack for too long, always ready for him to bolt off with not so much as a goodbye. "We can take the sleigh. Right North?"

"Da! Da. Sleigh feets many. I do not mind making stop." Though his expression showed he did, in fact, mind. And from the guilt he hid underneath a forced smile, it would seem he wasn't a fan of anything Jack was proposing. But they all knew they'd pushed him enough for the day. And there was only so far you could push Jack Frost. Even Bunny, the first to get him to do anything (swim, float, _trust_), said not a word.

It would seem they wouldn't have too. Jack, shrugged. "I don't mind going back to the Pole. A bed sounds good anyway."

Every shoulder in the group, save one blue clad set, slumped in relief. It wasn't much of an improvement, but it was something. A start. Something to show that they were gaining some sort of trust. A connection between themselves and the spirit that he was beginning to realize existed.

"Besides," Jack twirled his staff before clamboring into the red sleigh. "I've got a swimming lesson tomorow."

"Dang right, ya do." Bunny followed him, not even complaining about the vehicle he had stepped willingly into, and sat himself down next to the Guardian of Fun, ruffling his hair. "Ain't now way you're backing out'a this one mate."

"What? Is that a challenge, Kangaroo."

"Sure it, ya bloody ice pop."

The two of them bickered even as the sleigh lifted off the ground. Stopping only when Jack let out a yawn and Sandy took it as a hint to let one, golden stream, twirl around him. The white haired boy protested lightly -though when did he _not_ try to protest something- and let his head loll onto Bunny's shoulder, where it stayed. Dreams, for the first time ever, of lakes not frozen over floating over his head.

* * *

**And that's it! I really hope this one was okay! Ever since the extreme blow up of positive feedback over the last chapter, I've been nervous that I wont top it... and what will happen when I do? **


	9. Jumper Part 4

**_READ THIS AUTHORS NOTE! SUUUPPPERR IMPORTANTE!_  
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**Okay people! Let me explain the long wait in a quick description that will either make you hate me or love me. **

**I have been spending the last week working with my beta, mjbaerman, exchanging medical information and small snippets, all leading up towards the next four to five piece story that will be featured here. And what is that story, you might ask. Well to all who requested it (and that was a decent amount of people), your wish is finally coming true.  
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**JACK. WILL. GET. HURT!  
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**That's right guys. I, as of now, have almost fifty pages on Microsoft word (in twelve font, might I add) of a single story that will be broken up. All of it is Jack getting horribly hurt. Or maybe (gasp) worse...?  
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**Now, you might be saying, Galimatias, how can you possibly hurt Jack anymore than horribly? What could you do to take the hearts from out chests and crush them into dust? How can you destroy us further with fluff and angst. Well, dear reader (flashes a cocky smile), this is how.  
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**I'm going to hold a poll right now. Answer it in your comments, I will tally it all up, and then we're going to see what the results are!  
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**a) add one last installment to Jumper to show a short recovery process.  
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**b) ****add one last installment to Jumper to show a short recovery process and then give us some FUNNY stuff! Humor is great!**  


******c) SKIP TO THE JACK STORY! SKIP TO THE JACK STORY!  
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******d) Tease you, by giving the Jack story next, and then the last installment to Jumper, leaving you wallowing in a cliffhanger until your fingers slip.  
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******e) your own suggestion.  
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******So that's it readers! What's it going to be!?  
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******And, just to make the choice even harder, here's a quick sneak peek to the Jack story  
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o0o******  
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**_You're not going to die_**. Those were the words that Jack heard, pounding through the darkness. **_You're not going to die_**. And all that could cross his mind was:

_Die?_

Who said anything about death? He wasn't dying. And he was fairly sure that he knew what death felt like. Death was cold. Death was water filling up your lungs. And death was vision slowly going dark. _Death_ was lonely and fear filled. He'd experienced all these things once and, thanks to a certain Baby Tooth, now remembered them quite vividly. Yes. He had known death.

That -whatever _this_ was- was not death.

_This_ was dark, yes. But not unpleasantly so . Maybe it was the voice -one he'd heard before, but for some reason couldn't quite place his finger on. Or it could have been the arms surrounding his body. Also a valid factor.

He finally decided that the main reason was the _warmth_. It was just so... _warm_. But not uncomfortable. Warm was supposed to burn him, hurt him. This was comforting. It had been so long since he'd been warm -300 years actually, give or take a few- and it felt so... perfect. A general progression of heat, beginning at his chest, and slowly dripping downward. Much like a blanket being lain on his figure. And he wanted nothing more than to burrow under it and fall asleep in its embrace. He was so tired, after all. So, so tired. And all he wanted to do...

... was sleep.

o0o

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**THE CHOICE IS ALL YOURS! I AIN'T PRESSURING YOU OR ANYTHING! ;)**

******Anyway, thanks to all my amazing reviewers. You really do keep this story alive and running. And I cannot believe we are almost at 300 reviews! That's amazing!  
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******Ok, this chapter was not my favorite. I revised it at least twenty times. And didn't get it beta'd because I knew I just HAD to get it out before the mobs came with the pitchforks. (Sigh) Such is life. So if you see spelling errors... ignore them. I'll fix it later!  
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******I want to thank my amazing beta who helped me so much with this! mjbaerman! You are AMAZING! And I cannot believe how you still put up with me! LOL! You are a gem!  
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******Everyone, go and read her story, Shadowed Victory_._ If you wanna talk angst... just go and see for yourself. I cried... a lot...  
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******Ok! Onto the chapter! And sorry. Again... not my favorite one.  
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o0o_  
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_I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars._

~Og Mandino

o0o

* * *

Jack's dreams were anything but pleasant. Good dreams had become somewhat of a steady routine for him, and he always suspected that it was because he now lived with the giver of good dreams himself. He'd never have thought it was because Sandy was especially found of the boy who he'd known for so long, but he didn't have to know. In the end he received the dreams he needed and slept happily.

That night though, there were no way for happy dreams to make their way into his head. Even with Pitch far out of sight, the swirling black clouds ceased to leave. Sandy, busy catching up on delivering dreams, failed to realize this, sending a tendril or two into the room before he left. Even the gold sand, glitter cutting through the darkness, failed to penetrate the black cloud, simply allowing a few grains to mix before turning black themselves.

Pictures of people falling and arrows whizzing by. Scenes depicting funeral processions and a solitary boy standing in front of a grave. Silhouettes of broken families and split fantasies.

Jack could only watch them and pray to MiM with every thought he had left that they weren't real. Hope to every single power in the world that he'd done _something _right, and that everything would be okay. Please, please, please let it all be okay.

But it wasn't. In the end, Tooth was once more setting the candle in the globe room and grabbing his hand. The bells of the elves hats tolled and the soft light twitched around the room. For once, even the globe had been turned off. He couldn't even see Jamie's light. Jamie, the one believer who had _believed_ in the Easter Bunny, only now to lose him.

And no amount of belief was going to bring him back.

No. No… it was his fault. It was all _his_ fault! Why! Why was life so cruel?! Why did it have to end like this? Why did everything have to have a twist ending, a surprise?

They couldn't lose Bunny. They just couldn't. He was the rock, the thing that brought their feet to the ground when their heads ventured just inches too far through the clouds. If they lost him… reality would no longer exist. They weren't complete.

And what he saw next, the grave freckled with green moss. He was alone. Alone, alone, alone, alone, _alone, al-_

_Frostbite? _He could still hear Bunny's voice above and around him, echoing through his mind. _Jack!_ The last thing he had screamed before the arrow had hit. His name. He had been warning him to move, and he hadn't. It was his fault. All his-

"FROSTBITE!"

And then Jack opened his eyes.

They met green ones.

And for the second time that night, Jack found himself totally embarrassed and in tears.

* * *

Bunny hadn't known quite what to do at the reaction. Finding himself in a vice like grip by a freezing winter spirit was not how he imagined waking up on any day. Especially when he had just woken up from what he imagined to be near death and when said winter spirit was balling his eyes out onto his matted fur.

So, finally figuring out that he didn't exactly have the largest range of motion at the current time, and couldn't shove the spirit off, he did all he could do. Gather him closer.

"Hey… hey, i's a'right!" The paw rubbed in small cirles on his back, "I'm righ' 'ere, Frosty. Don' cry! I ain't croaked yet!" The last part was said lightly, a slight joke. He received a glare.

"You a-almost did." Through the tears Jack somehow managed a serious tone. "Y-y-you a-l-m-most di-i-id!" Sobs hiccupped in the back of his throat, fingers lacing through the matted fur.

"Well, I didn't. You know me. I'm tough'sa cut snake." He tried to hold back a cough, his voice weak enough as it was, now he was just pushing it.

"Sto-o-p talki-ing." Jack sniffled. "Idiot."

Bunny's smile stayed there, growing fonder with the strange word choice. "Brat."

He could feel Jack vibrate with laughter. It hurt his side, and did a number on his chest, but he didn't mind. Sinking back into the pillow, he tried to retain any heat he could from the one item he'd been allowed. "Hey… frost… bite," he cleared his throat, but that did nothing for his miniscule voice, "ya think… ya could let… go? Bloody cold."

"Nu uh," in response, Jack gripped onto his friend harder. "You had a fever. You still have a fever."

"I do… not-"

"Well… I'm not taking chances." The small boy took a moment to glare at his friend before once more burying his face into his matted, sweaty side. His fever had broken. The sheets below him, wet with sweat from the mere exertion of sickness leaving, were enough to attest for that. But it would seem that facts weren't enough for the winter spirit. He would not relent until _he_ was sure that they were in the clear.

Aster felt another shiver go down his spine, and his eyes flickered to the comforter lying on the floor. "J-Jack… it's fr-freezing…" He suppressed another cough, but failed, the small hack racing up his lungs and throat.

"No." Muffled by his own fur. Bunny had to keep a growl from leaving with the next cough. He was lucky he at least had fur.

Finally, deeming his hope for a blanket to be utterly hopeless, he settled back. His paw made rhythmic circles on Jack's back, relaxing both him and the latter. "Did I almost really die?" The question came from nowhere really. The last few days had been a jumbled mix of forgotten words and hazy images. He remembered being poked, prodded. He remembered dull throbbing and he remembered muffled voices coming from unknown sources. And then…

He remembered waking up somewhere. And he remembered the small man. Very, very vaguely. It could be brushed off as a dream, and by morning it would be. But somehow… right then and there, as he lay in the freezing embrace of the younger Guardian, he thought harder and harder about it.

A short man, he remembered. Happy, smiling, face glowing with joy and… light? Light had radiated off of him. A soft, luminescent kind of light. A dull halo of yellow and white and blue all mixed together. It made his blue suit look even more pronounced.

"You're Aster," he remembered the man had said. And that had been their introduction. Just a statement, and that was it.

"I believe I am."

"You're not dead." The reassurance he had received was confusing to say the least. He remembered very little after all.

"Alright."

"I'm not going to take you."

"Alright."

"Someone else isn't letting you go. So I can't take you." The small man had shrugged, as if to say _that's life_, and then began to walk away. They were standing on a platform, and the man had jumped off into the dark abyss. And as Bunny had watched, he saw the man hop down a stairway of stars.

"How do I get back?" That was the most Aster had said. Just one simple question. And then that strange little man in the blue suit had turned around, his weight making the star he was standing on dip, then bounce back up.

"Just take that path. I'd hurry though, if I were you."

Looking to where he was pointing, Aster remembered seeing a strange configuration of boxes made from stardust and space rocks. A hopscotch court. He turned to ask the man more, maybe even to thank him –though that was not likely- but he was already gone, the star staircase having left with him.

And after that, Bunny had taken the trail he'd been given… and woke up. The strange dream (because that's all it really was; a dream) would be forgotten over time. And the strange man would become more of a distant memory than anything else.

But that night, until the cold numbed his skin enough to not even feel it, and until sleep finally took over, he pondered over what everything had meant. Who the small man in the blue suit had been. What he had meant by, not being able to take him. And why in the world had the path back been a hopscotch court?

* * *

Tooth hadn't really known what to expect. She was scared, that much she knew. But she had honestly not known what to expect when she opened the door to Bunny's room. Her mind had swirled with ideas and images of Jack grieving, crying over the deathbed of a best friend lost. Little niggling pictures of a room as quiet as death, where death resided and souls had already fled.

She did not expect, when the door was opened, to see Bunny jerk awake, wince, and then offer her a small smile.

She was by his side in a moment, attepting not to cry.

"You're okay!"

"Shhh…"

Looking next to him Tooth cooed. Jack, tear tracks still glistening, frozen, was curled tightly onto his friends side. Lightly snoring, the teen only shifted slightly at the sound of Tooth's voice, mumbled a sentence or two, and then drifted off again.

"Aw! Bunny-"

"I know… ankle biters' all tuckered out…"

"You should be too." Her small hand touched his forhead and she smiled. "Your fever's gone!"

"Yeh. This bloke here," and at that he offered a faux glare in Jack's direction, "froze it out'a me."

"Really?" She drifted backwards. "I mean… North tried to sweat it out…" She shook her head, plumage bobbing. "I have to tell him you're okay!" How would the larger man react at this news. Just hours before, predicting a death. And now here was the accused, lying in mediocre health in front of her eyes. She really should have been crying. She was just scared she'd wake up Jack.

"Do me a fav'r, will ya? B'fore ya go. That blanket-"

"On it." Toothiana picked up the heavy bundle, working it through her hands until it was spread out, and then draped it over the two Guardians. Carefully, still flying above, she stroked Jack's white hair. "Why is he so… tired?"

"Dunno… maybe he used too much energy."

"Doing what?"

"Keeping me cold," he reached over a paw to smooth down his hair where Tooth had fluffed it. "annoyin' bugga'."

The two of them were silent for a moment. The only sounds were Jack's relaxed snoring and Bunny shifting under the covers, trying (and continuously failing) to get comfortable. Finally, deeming it a lost cause, he lay back and closed his eyes. "He's something else, isn't he?"

His eyes opened again. Tooth was still floating about, staring fondly at the youngest. Bunny smirked. "'Ee is."

"How did we live without him?" Her violet gaze landed on his, and for once she looked genuinely distressed. Distressed and confused. "Bunny… how did we live without him?"

"I… don't know." And he really didn't. In fact, most of the memories he had, the four of them Guarding the children of the world, were all beginning to look a little sad. If they could even look sad. "I don't know, Tooth."

"He was the only one, you know. We all were going to give up. On you, I mean. We didn't want to, but we had to. It was just like Sandy all over again." Her arms were 'round herself, and he doubted it was from the cold. "We gave up then, too. We just… didn't know what to do. And Jack…" Another fond smile, another ruffling of white hair that bent against delicate fingers. "He wouldn't take it. It was either save you, or die trying." A laugh escaped her mouth, though it contained no mirth. "We all thought he was going to die, too."

"'Ee wouldn't have."

She didn't have to say anything. The way she looked at him. Wide eyes, the tilted head, the knowing smile. _Yes_, she was saying. _Yes…. He would have._

Bunny blew out a puff of air. "God…" Shifting, though not without the pain of doing so, he managed to face Jack, still asleep. "Yer a real, Gumby, ya know that mate?"

Tooth's laugh that came next had at least _some_ happiness. "Right to the insults, huh?"

"Nat'rally." He dipped his head down slightly to snuffle into Jack's hair, nudging his head just once. But it was something Tooth had seen before. Something very rare to see. Delivering teeth to a young boy, she happened upon his pet rabbits. The mother and three kits. The smallest of the four curled up against her warm side, while the eldest had regarded Tooth with an odd expression. Then one of the kits had stirred and the mother, in a display of affection, had nudged the baby with her nose. And somehow that had done the trick.

It seemed to do the trick there too. Jack, against the muffled snuffling of the warm breath against his temple, nuzzled himself closer, letting out a content sigh. The snoring stopped, and his shoulders, which had been fairly lowered, relaxed entirely. The kit had been subdued.

Tooth hadn't stayed much longer after that, running to fetch North from where he had fallen asleep, distressed, on his work table. Once the news had been quickly passed, the three Guardians had been gathered around the bed, asking questions in hushed voices and checking up on their friend. And then, after all the relief had settled and the commotion had died away, they had left Bunny to rest, his cooling pack affixed to his side.

It wouldn't be until a few hours later when Jack would awaken to find the Guardian of Hope, already shooting insults and jibes for snoring, with a broken fever and a much better temperament. At least until they broke the news that he couldn't leave the bed.

* * *

The first day had been bearable. Bunny had been checked upon by many of the yeti's and North himself, who said his wound would heal nicely if he didn't jostle it too much.

The second day had been slightly tolerable. He'd had the usual visitors. Even Sandy and Tooth, busy as they were, had made an effort to stop in.

The third day…

The third day he hated his life.

"What'dya mean I can't get up!"

"You cannot!" North was checking the bandages for the fourth time that day, overjoyed that they hadn't soaked up any more blood. "Ees bad for recovery."

"That's a bloody insult! I'ma Bunny! I'm s'posed ta be walkin' around!"

"Well, you are not allowed. You are bunny, but also Guardian. Now stay d'ere and stop whining."

"I'm not bloody whining."

"You act like kit at times!"

That insult had left Bunny stewing for a few more hours. Already in a foul mood from being confined to a small room, he was in no mood for insults. Even Jack had figured out that much, and refrained from saying as much as a peep about looking like a kangaroo. It was a bit disturbing, he had to admit. But whatever the cause, Jack had been on his best behavior.

And not only that, but the boy had been attentive. Out of the four other Guardians, he was the one who showed up the most. Telling Bunny stories of snowball fights and blizzards he'd caused. And even if Bunny's interest for winter was little to none, he did appreciate the distraction.

What annoyed him, was the attention to his needs. _Every_ need.

Jack had decided, it would seem, that Bunny was not allowed to do anything on his own. The elder was in his total and compete care. And whenever he tried to do something on his own, it was like he was walking into his own grave.

"Let me help!" The winter sprite would say. "Just let me help!" And it infuriated the fiercely independent rabbit to no end. So he tried his hardest, even if it did plague him with guilt, to send the boy on as many errands as possible.

"He just wants to help!" Tooth scolded him one night.

"I know… and he is 'elpin'. By doin' somethin' else. The kids gunna wear 'imself down if he keeps this up!" And even Tooth had to agree with that.

But even so, Jack kept going. Trying his hardest to please the rabbit. Anything he could do, any errand he could run, any display that he would be there no matter what. It took a few days to understand exactly what was going on, but once Sandy explained it, it clicked.

Through a series of pictures, rabbits, snowflakes, sad faces, time passing, he explained what Bunny couldn't have seen even if he'd wanted to.

Jack had been scared to lose Bunny. And now he was making up for it.

It didn't lesson anything. But at least he understood. At least a little.

* * *

"Oi, Jack?" It was the seventh day when Bunny decided that he would actually thrown himself out a window from boredom. Jack had come to check on him… again. Fussing over covers and asking if he needed anything. The offer had been declined… at first. There was only so much longer he could last, after all.

Jack shot up like a soldier, ready to receive instruction. "Yea?"

"Wanna do me a favor?"

If his face could glow anymore, he'd had been the sun. "Yeah! Anything! What do you need!"

What did he need? That was a great question. He hadn't really thought of that, just wanting whatever could be offered to keep himself from impaling the nearest person with a boomerang. "You wanna fetch me somt'in. I know it's vague… but if ya can find me someth'in ta do…"

"You're bored?" How could he not be? There were only so many snow stories one could listen to until they saw spots.

"I'm on bed rest, gumby. Course I'm bored."

Jack fidgeted. "I'm not s'possed to leave you alone, though. That's what North said. And I told him I'd take the shift-"

"You take every shift. Ya need ta get outside, kid. 'For ya end up a loony like me." Jack smirked. "Just a quick pop outside, right? An' if ya need ta'-" God he couldn't believe he was suggesting this, "you can' maybe-" it was the only way, after all, "ask North ta' watch me…" And there it was. His worst nightmare. But whatever would get him out of the funk he was trapped in.

Jack stewed over the suggestion, fidgeting some more. "I don't know…"

"I ain't goin' nowhere, Frostbite! I can't walk!" He wiggled his toes for emphasis, grimacing. "Jus' call North an' get yer skinny arse out the door. Got'i?"

"Oka-a-ay?" He didn't look happy about dragging North into it, preferring to have watched the Rabbit himself. But he did, towing North through the door and explaining exactly what would be happening. "I'm just going to get something!" Jack had grabbed his staff, eyes twitching towards Bunny, still unsure. "Just… stay here… until I get back."

"I weel watch him weeth my life." North saluted.

"North!" Apparently even Jack didn't want to joke. Things _were_ off in the state of Denmark.

"Al'ight, al'ight! You go. Run errand! I stay with Bunny!"

"Don't let him get out of bed."

"I weel not."

"Don't let him drink to much water."

"I weel make sure of eet."

"And if he needs more covers-"

"Jack! Ya dill, jus' leave already!"

"Okay! I'm going!" And with one last uncertain glance, he allowed the wind to carry him up and out.

There was silence.

And then there was laughter.

Huge, booming laughter. North, grabbing onto the bed post to steady himself, couldn't help but let out peals and roars.

"Oh yeh… laugh it up," Bunny sulked. "Jus' wait till it happens ta' you."

"I am sorry, Bunny!" The man wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. "But ees funny! No?"

"No. It ain't. An' I don't see why you've gotta be the one ta make a big fuss over it."

"Well, eet seems dat ees all I _can_ make fuss over. He ees the only one allowed to make _fuss_ over you!"

Bunny groaned, looking up at North with a scowl. "You have no idea, mate."

"That boy ees waiting on you, hand and foot!" North couldn't help but let out another booming chuckle, clasping large fingers around his gut.

"Kid won't let me lift an' arm." Bunny tried to sit up, grunting and sliding back down when his efforts proved worthless. "I told 'im I'd be fine ta get up on my own."

"Oh yes. You are _clearly_ fine to be -how ees eet you say?- up and alarmed?"

"I think it's up an' about."

"Phf, hundreds of years and I steel do not bother weeth silly English terms," he waved his hands. "Eet ees same t'ing. And meaning here ees dat you are _no_ ready to be up. You are _hurt_."

"Still don't mean the biter's gotta treat me like I'm bedridden."

"You are bedridden." The answer to his reply was a distressed face palm. "Come, Bunny! Even you must admit, eet ees adorable!"

"Yeah, real cute."

"He ees trying to help you! Stop acting like _сварливый кролика_." North chuckled again when Bunny wrinkled his nose at the words, knowing an insult when he heard one, even if he didn't know what the insult was. Finally, though, his ears lowered a bit and he released a tired sigh.

"Yeh, I know. Kid's been workin' himself ta the quick, though. I keep on telling 'im I'll be fine, but he wont sleep. Won't leave. Tell ya, North, I'm more worried about him than I am 'bout me."

North's mirth finally subsided, and he allowed himself to sigh sadly.

"He ees afraid." North sighed, slumping down into a chair by the bed and leaning back. The solid wood groaned under him, back rest creaking ever so cautiously as he settled himself into place. But it failed to break, even when the man stretched his legs out and let his body relax. "Jack deed not take any of dis well…" His eyes widened and he shook his palms, "Not dat any of us deed, you must understand!"

Bunny's paw flicked as if to say no harm done, and Nicholas continued. "Just like weeth Sandy, we all continued with vhat we could. Sad, but we try to do everything. Jack… he sort of… stopped. Like bad engine, no? He runs out of fuel and he ees kaput!"

"So… he went away."

"Oh no. Jack stayed here." He pointed to the chair on the other side, the one the winter spirit still currently occupied. "Was very hot een here, too. But he stayed. And vhen situation got dire, bam!" North animated by throwing his arms into the air. "He ees suddenly a man of action."

"Yeh, usin' cold." Bunny nodded approvingly. "Smart kid."

"Indeed!" A nod to mirror it, "We all said more heat, and he says cold! Though… we had no knowledge of plan, I must admit. We all thought…" a long pause took hold of the room, the fires crackling only adding to the morbid atmosphere that had settled.

"North?"

"Bunny… we are not immortal." Where the sudden words had come from, Bunny wasn't sure. But he squinted up at the large man who had suddenly began to observe the flickering fire. "We are not immortal."

"I know." A simple, quiet answer. All of them knew that fact. All of them were aware. And they were yet to sit their youngest down and give him that talk, telling him that he _had_ to realize it. He was not as immortal as it seemed to be. He could die. Would die, eventually. They all would- fading away near the end of their times. But until then, it counted on their own personal safety to get them to that end point.

"Well… we never really stopped to t'ink about chances. We are hard to kill. But ees not impossible." Sad, blue eyes looked towards the Easter Bunny. "You, my friend, gave us all quite a scare. You know dat?"

"So I've heard," A smirk, "But no worries. Already told the kid. I'm a hard one'a get rid of."

North chuckled, shaking his head. "That you are. Stubborn, pig headed-"

"Oi! I'm right here!"

Another happy laugh, then once more the bearded face had gone contemplative, thinking hard about things that might have been. "I cannot help but t'ink of… eef he had not…" Bunny was going to interject, tell him to stop thinking like that. But North had already pinned him with his large eyes and an amused smile. "I also 'ave to t'ank MiM for giving us Guardian who ees just as stubborn and pig headed. Strange, that the pair of you seem to clash so, you have too much in common is vhat eet ees."

"So… Frostbite-"

"-Saved you? Yes. I give him full credit. And honestly, eef not for his nature –though he does give me one beeg headache sometimes- you would not be here, complaining like Grumpy Bunny you are."

"Shut yer gab, ya dill." The rabbit crossed his arms, sulking back into the pillow.

North would have continued to jab at his friend had the door not blown open the next second, a familiar finger flying through, landing quickly on his toes and teetering to a stop. Breathless, obviously having flown at top speeds, Jack rested his hands on his knees, panting.

"S-sorry… Sorry I ta-t-took so long!"

"Long?" Bunny's arms let go of their hold, relaxing at his sides, "you were gone ten minutes."

"I know. Sorry."

Bunny didn't argue further, instead tried once more to sit up, paws bracing themselves on either side of him, biceps flexing and then quivering as weight was added to his chest, and torn muscle was strained. He let out a quick puff of air, ready to sidle up slowly against the headboard.

"What are you doing!" Within seconds Jack had grabbed an air current to his side, letting the shepherds staff fall against the wall, lean for a moment and then slide to the floor with a few ungraceful set of _clanks_. "You're not supposed to get up!" Small white hands grabbed onto a furry wrist, tugging persistently. "You're supposed to lie down!"

North cast Bunny a sympathetic look, though it was traced with _far_ too much humor for Aster's liking, and began to sidestep out of the room. A thumbs up shot his way was almost Sandy Speak for "you're on your own, pal." Bunnymund glared as the traitor retreated, and silently prayed that he slipped on ice.

"C'mon, lie down!" His attention once more on the younger boy, Bunny tried to not fix all of his pent up aggravation on the new target.

"Frosty, I don't-"

"You have to get better and if you don't lie down, or at least _sleep_-"

"_Frostbite_, there's no re-"

"And if North heard that I wasn't doing my job-"

"_**Jack! Ya gotta lay off**_**, **_**alrigh'**_?!"

Jack hand released his wrist as if he'd been burned, scuttling back across the floorboards, bare feet making little noise. Hands fished themselves through his front pocket, head bent over so white downy hair fell in front of his eyes. Form hunched, he looked guilty, sad and beaten down. And Bunny couldn't help but feel a twinge of his own guilt –though he, unlike Jack, deserved it- swim up his spine.

He exhaled loudly, sinking back to settle under thick covers. With as much strength as he could muster he turned onto his side and leaned on his forearm, wincing only two times. "Gah… I'm sorry mate. Look… c'mere." His paw flattened against the linens, about as much of a motion that he could stand to do. Jack didn't move, only hesitantly flicked his blue eyes up. "C'mon, get over 'ere."

Much like a kicked puppy, Jack slunk forward until he had reached the side of the bed, sidling up against the mattress until his leg just barely brushed it. Bunny reached out, grabbing his forearm without too much difficulty. "Jack?" No response. "Jack, mate, ya gotta look at me. Hey… look at me." Jack did. "Look… I'm sorry. I am. I jus'… you know me! I can't be cooped up here like some chook all hours of the day! It only makes my already hella a temper get worse." That earned him a smirk. "I just really need ta' sit up or I'm gonna go more insane then I would'a if I don't."

"Then at least let me help you." And though Jack's voice was small, the tiny smile that graced his lips was one Bunny had seen before. He was forgiven. Adding in a sigh of his own, Bunny simply raised an arm.

"Then help a mate out, would'jya?"

With a nod, Jack laced his arms around the rabbit and slowly helped his sit up in the bed. It was a slow process, and Jack forced Bunny to take small breaks (something the rabbit, though he didn't _voice_ it, was not appreciative of), but they finally had him sitting up against the headboard, the pillow propped vertically against his back.

"Right," the Aussie began, after a minute of catching his breath, "whad'ya bring me."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Give me a minute!" He was gone for far less than that. Scurrying into the hall there was a grunt as something heavy was lifted, and then he came walking in, slowly and carefully, as if not to trip and break something. "I thought you'd get bored… and you're really good at this… so… I brought a lot." He reached in and with one item explained the method to his madness.

"You've brought googies!" The egg Jack had plucked from the top was plopped into the palm, rolling for a moment before standing on two tiny legs, leaning back to look up at its master. Said master poked the egg affectionately, where it toppled back onto the rough pad of his paw, little legs flailing.

"And paint." Jack was already in the process of unloading the eight jars he had been able to carry in the box. "I got red, yellow, orange… basically the whole rainbow. Oh. And here's black and white." All of them were placed on the bed with a few extra empty jars for mixing.

"Aw! Perfect!" The colors were observed warily. "And brushes?"

Jack gave him a cheeky smile, reaching into his hoodie pocket. "Here. I got a few. But I'm not much of a painter…" Three fat brushes and four smaller ones.

"No, these are good sizes." The egg he'd been holding was placed onto the covers as well as Bunny sifted through paint jars. Every so often looking at the egg, then the room around him, trying to gain inspiration where there was obviously none to be found.

"Sorry I couldn't grab the metallic stuff." Now Jack was just finding excuses for a conversation.

"'S alright! These wouldn' have been my best googies anyhow. Don't need to fancy 'em up to try an' make em look good." They'd look amazing, Jack knew. But he and the rabbit had different standards when it came to what was ok and what was _perfect_.

Finally seeming to have decided on something, he grabbed a hold of a jar of red paint and one of the fat brushes. "Right then, lets go." He wasn't talking to Jack, instead speaking to the white oval he had once again picked up. "You wanna get painted?"

It would seem that was all the egg wanted as it rocked back and forth on it's tiny legs, releasing small clicking and clacking sounds. There was a chorus of the same sounds in the box, all of them sounding like they wanted the attention from their master. The box received the same glare that Jack often received when he was doing something wrong. And much like him, the eggs seemed to recognize superiority when they sensed it, immediately quieting to a muffled chatter.

"Alrigh'…" Bunny inspected the egg, turning it around in his hand, careful eyes taking in every groove and spot. The carefully he dipped the brush into the paint, taking care to get the correct amount on the bristles, and began to slowly go to work.

It was often fascinating to watch the Aussie at work. Unlike North, who was fun to watch for his childlike behavior, _wonder_ he called it, Bunnymund was another matter. Taking care to complete every task with careful precision. Him, and only him, in that one moment. No yeti's with brushes, no elves with paint cans. Just one rabbit with the eye of an artist.

Jack stood at the side and took in every brush stroke. He'd tried to paint an egg once. Sneaking into Bunny's warren and grabbing an egg. It looked easy enough. The Guardian of Hope was quick to draw on pattern and images. But as soon as the first hair of his brush hit the shell he knew he'd been wrong. The base coat had been sloppy and white was still showing through the paint. And the second layer was little more than disastrous blotches that a two year old could have competed with. The curved surface made it hard to hold, and small fingerprints had disturbed ever single spot, and in the end his hands were covered in green, yellow and red.

The egg that he'd painted had waddled away as quickly as it could as soon as Jack had let go. And when it had somehow, without the use of eyes, seen himself in a mirror, had proceeded to run towards the wall with a goal to smash himself to bits. Jack had blocked him off in time. Unfortunately his save had not come without a price. Returning the can to Bunny, who at that point still wanted little to nothing to do with his rival, had a fantastic laugh. And after three minutes with the egg in his paw had repainted the entire thing with Monet's water lily's.

And now, scrutinizing Aster's careful work, he couldn't help but try and figure out what he was doing. How he was doing it all. Green eyes left the red surface, already finished and unmarred, and gave Jack a look.

"You okay?"

"Huh?!" Jack blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Just watching. But… I can go now." After two days he doubted that the bedridden Guardian would want much to do with him anyway.

"You can stay." Looking back to his egg, "'M just paintin' anyway."

Jack fidgeted, the question on his tongue. Bunny was sick. He needed rest. He needed to be in whatever happy place he was in now and stay there. That was the best way towards the path to recovery. But he really, really, _really_, wanted to ask, and-

"Yer starin' again," Bunny hummed, not even looking up. The second coat was in process and the egg, apparently ticklish, began to wiggle, which earned him a light flick.

"How do you do that?"

Bunny looked up again, brush pausing. "Do what?"

Shifting from foot to foot, Jack pointed to the egg. "Paint them."

"I just do."

"I tried it once."

A tight smirk, trying not to laugh. Especially with how painful that action was. It didn't stop the chuckle from leaking out. "I remember."

Fun scowled, then looked at the egg the paw held. "I think I used to paint Easter eggs with my sister. But I wasn't really good at it then either. She was better than me. I just… could never figure out how to paint it." As if holding an egg, he demonstrated turning something around in his hand. "It's hard to figure out how to hold it."

"Not that hard, sorry ta' tell ya."

"Yeah. Well you're the Easter Bunny."

A second of silence.

"Take an egg from the box."

"Huh."

Bunny gestured with his brush. "Take a googie. But don't take any one'a them that jump. I'm tryin' ta train 'em, an if they jump they get painted last."

"Your harsh," he looked over the edge and plucked an egg that seemed to be restraining itself from jumping or clacking. He held it on his palm and it squeaked happily at him.

"Getta brush. And grab a color. We're gonna start you off on somethin' easy."

When one of the fat brushes and the container of blue was in his hand, Jack sat on the small table next to the bed.

"Alright. So, let's start off by jus' paintin' the egg. One base color an' that's it. Think you can handle that much."

"Shut up, kangaroo."

"Jus' do it, Ice pop."

It would seem as if things had returned to normal.

At least until tomorrow.

* * *

**So, reader? How will this end? Just answer the poll and we shall see! End it here, at this nice little tab? Or... well... I'll let you decide!  
**

**Thanks so much! You are all AMAZING!  
**

**And god, I really have to get to thanking every one of you. I've sent out PM's... but only as many as I could. So I'm going to try to compile a list this weekend of everyone who has ever reviewed. Just to show you all how amazing and valued you are! I LOVE YOU ALL!  
**

**~Gal  
**


	10. Jumper Epilogue

**Ok! The polls were counted! And let me tell you… it took a while. So, this one came in first. To have the last installment of Jumper. And then to give you the Jack thing.**

**I was surprised though! I would think you guys would want some fluff or funny stuff! Just to, yunno, mend your hearts before I smash then terribly. But hey, it's all good! So… I also took snowflake1814's advice. Angst leads to fluff you said! So… here's some fluff!**

**And yes, TheLadyJazz, I meant it to sound like that! LOL! But, in my defence, I got FIFTEEN requests, all for Jack to get hurt! AND SIX OF THOSE WERE FOR HIM TO GET STABBED! LOL, thanks for your awesome review, btw!**

**I hope this helps to somewhat mend your heart! Hikari Kaiya and LillithDemon! Your wishes for funny shall come. I swear it!**

**OOOOH! AND SHOUTOUT TO AAANNNNYYYONE WHO WANTED TO BE TEASED ABOUT JACK GETTING HURT!**

**I want you to read the end of this story. I mean… read the beginning. But then read the end. It's a… cliffy… of sorts. A teaser, if you will. Just close your eyes, let the words sink in, and then let your vivid fanfic minds run FREEEE!**

**Thanks everyone! Because of you, I got a whopping 61 REVIEWS IN ONE DAY! WHAT IS THIS!?**

**You're all awesome! Here's the epilogue! Sorry in advance for spelling/grammer mistakes. I didn't have my beta look it over. YOU ARE AWESOME MJBAERMAN! I JUST NEEEDED THIS UP BEFORE I EXPLODED! **

* * *

o0o

_A sacrifice is best refuted by accepting it._

~Wilhelm Steinitz

o0o

* * *

It took two weeks. Two whole weeks of bed rest for Bunny to be even allowed to wiggle his foot. Well… if he'd been strictly under the care of anyone else he might have already been making his painful way out the door. They never really knew how to deal with his temper, and often times just figured that letting him go and then reeling him back was the best way. And, though annoying, it proved to be highly successful.

However, he _wasn't_ under the strict care of North. Or Tooth. Or, God forbid, Sandy. No, he was under the care of an equally stubborn Winter Spirit, whose methods were to take the Pooka head on if he tried any of his usual tricks. North had been right on all accounts. If it hadn't been for Jack, who knows what would have happened. But it wasn't magical healing abilities, or the power of love. It was the simple fact that the youngest Guardian could match Bunny when it came to his "negative" traits.

It became a daily show, one that no one else would have been able to endure. Bunny demanding to be let go, and Jack, crouched on the footboard of the bed, toes curled round the edge, would start a staring contest of the ages. Those usually lasted about three minutes until one or the other gave up (more often than not, it was Jack). If Bunny _still_ tried to get up after that, using his superiority as a weapon, Jack would brush it away with a display of his own superiority.

"At least North doesn't have to sponge bathe _my_ fur."

That would send the buck into a furious flurry of huffs and blushes that ended in silence.

If even _that_ didn't work, and Bunny's pride had yet to be shattered, Jack usually just threw a snowball at his face.

The other three tried to be in the general area of the door whenever these fights happened. Now that they were out and about making up for lost time in their jobs, they were never granted many forms of entertainment of Family-Fun-Time. It would seem that the fights counted.

"Show pony!"

"Kangaroo!"

"Ice Pop!"

"_Cotton Tail!_"

"_BLOODY ESKY!_"

The names usually were where the entire fight ended, after Jack had morphed into what would seem to be a mother hen.

"I didn' even know winter spirits were s'possed ta' be this motherin'…" Bunny grumbled during one of the sponge baths Jack just _loved _to bring up. "An' here's frostbite, actin' like a bloody matron."

"Oh geeve Jack break, Bunny!"

"You jus' like ta listen in…"

"Ees true. You two fight like cat!"

"Ha ha."

"Ha ha indeed! Geeve me your arm." Bunny did it, but not without a display of reluctance. He was grateful to be clean. Fur was different from hair, and picked up dirt and dander and grease much faster. But he liked to clean himself, thank you very much. And since his movement was restricted, and they didn't want to soak his injury in bathwater (it had to stay clean and free of dirt) or get it wet (shower would take care of that), they'd had to resort to what Bunny resisted with every fiber of his being.

"Ya ain't touchin' me with _that_." He'd spat, staring at the sponge in North's hand like it was the Devil's creation, and not a plushy sea sponge.

"You want to be clean, no?"

"No. Eef eet means ya touch me with _that_."

"Eet ees either me or Jack." North had shrugged his massive shoulders, "Your choice!"

In the end, after a forty-five minute dispute where Bunny lay down the rules –_an yer never allowed ta tell anyone about this eva' 'gain!_- he'd allowed himself to have every last inch of pride stomped into the dust.

Now, North, washing down Bunny's arm and wringing out the sponge, dropping loose hairs into the bowl of water, had to chuckle. "You, my friend, are too prideful."

Bunny mumbled something.

"You weel be better before you know eet! Until then… how ees eet they say? Suck it up!"

How the large man messed up every English phrase but managed to get _that_ _one_ right, he'd never know.

"Yeah, well I wanna get up _now_."

"Eet weel take time!"

He'd get the same speech from Tooth later.

"We'll let you up when you're ready, Aster!" She was the only one who ever called him by his middle name, and never noticed the scowl of disapproval when she spoke it. Or maybe she did, and just wanted to annoy him. "Until then, you're too stay and rest!"

"I'm done _resting_," he crossed his arms and grimaced, "I've been _resting_ for more en'a week now. And I'm done!"

"Well then, obviously more than a week was not enough!"

"Toothiana-"

"Don't make me drag Sandy into this." The Guardian in question talked very little. In fact, he didn't talk at all. But he'd sign until there was more sand left to use.

And Jack… Jack was still the worst one. He'd somehow gotten the Guardian's wrapped 'round his little finger. And with that had placed a new-found strength inside them. The strength to temporarily deny Bunny. This could only go so far, and when they were about to cave, in came Jack. The ever present Guardian who just refused to leave Bunny's side. If he wasn't in the room, he stood by the door. And Bunny was sure he heard everything they'd said.

Sometimes he spoke extra loud, just to try and tick the spirit off.

Jack didn't deserve it. But he was grumpy. And you didn't place Aster and grumpy together and expect to come out with a smile on your face. But no matter what he said, though Bunny did try his best to hold back, the spirit refused to give in.

It was at the week and a half point when E. Aster Bunnymund just gave up. Obviously, he was fighting a losing battle. And if that was the case, then he wasn't going to try and fight anymore. It was around that time that he really saw what lengths Jack went to please him. When he wasn't resisting was when he saw it most. And he was able to enjoy, through the situation, how much he really did care about the kid.

And, even better, the vice versa.

One particular incident always struck a chord. One week and four days in.

"Hey Bunny!" Jack had flitted in early in the morning to deliver tea and carrots (thank the stars that he was at least able to feed himself). The boy had placed everything on a side table and then, instead of his usual fussing and fixing, he'd stood there awkwardly for a good moment. It took Bunny to rouse him out of his stance.

"Oi! Jack! What's up with y-"

"_Imadeyouthis!_" The egg was shoved in his face before Jack had even finished his own rushed sentence. Bunny had stared at it, cross-eyed, before gingerly accepting it, turning it around in his palm. Jack fidgeted some more. "I know you're bored… and tired and… sick… of- of me right now. But… sorry." There was silence as Bunny turned it around in his palm. "You taught me how to do them! And I thought it would be good practice because you were telling me to do something and-

"Jack. Yer ramblin'."

"… sorry…"

The egg was far from perfect. Paint, Bunny knew, was not exactly Jack's forte. All of his art was in a form of ice and snow. So when a project required the use of tools and not simply his hands and a bit of his own winter magic, he was lost. The paint was layered on some sectioned, singled on others, giving it a lighter and darker look. The designs were nondescript and smudged- wiggly lines that weren't the same density, spots that weren't evenly distanced.

The color's meshed together in places he hadn't allowed to dry. There were blobs of blue and red where acrylic hadn't been spread. And in one or two places, Jack's fingerprints were imprinted into the surface.

It was sloppy. It was messy. It was uneven and non-symmetrical.

But to Bunnymund, peering up at the nervous white haired boy who obviously had tried his very best… for him. He had spent that much time to produce what he held in front of him now… all for Bunnymund.

To anyone else it would have looked like a mess.

To Bunny it was the most perfect egg in the world.

"It's great, Frostbite." He turned to the spirit. "How many times did'jya repaint it?"

"This was my sixth…" he scratched the back of his neck, and Bunny swore he saw a blush crawl up his neck as Jack mumbled, "I'm not really good at painting."

"You kiddin'!" With as much strength as he could muster, Bunny cuffed the boy on the shoulder. "This is one'a the best eggs I ever saw!" And he meant it. "Maybe this year you can 'elp me paint some googies f'r the ankle biters!"

"You mean it!"

"'Course, Frostbite!"

He was feeling pretty low, in pain and sore and bored out of his mind. But those ten minutes he relished in the joy that rolled off Jack, like a proud parent praising their child for work well done.

That day hadn't been too bad.

* * *

Finally, _finally_, after two weeks of waiting and complaining, Bunny had been given the green light by everyone. Of course, they'd turned to Jack last as the deciding factor who, thank MiM, said he thought it would be good to get "the Kangaroo onto it's feet".

He couldn't wait to finally hop out on his own.

He hadn't realized just how far off that vision was when, one arm slung over Jack's neck, the other around North's shoulder, Bunny was struggling to even lift himself.

"This… urk… isn't 'xactly… mph… how I pic-pictured this…"

"An' how d-did you?" The light as a feather Jack almost stumbled under Bunny's weight. "Wh-what… you thought y-you'd ju-just walk 'way?"

"… was the plan… urgh…"

"Nonsense, Bunny!" North was the only one not struggling. "You have healing to do! You stay here until you are fine!"

"I c-can't s- _huff_ –stay, North! I gotta job!"

"A job that weel be waiting, no? Egg friends weel take care of t'ings till den."

"But-"

"No buts, now let us see how far you can walk!"

They got down the hallway through the main room before Bunny tried to break off and go on his own. That didn't do much, and he almost fell on his face, Jack having to push against Bunny with all his weight to keep him from kissing the ground.

"When… did… you… get… s-so… HEAVY!" Bunny stumbled away, caught by North instead.

"Maybe yer just to light," Bunnymund snipped back.

"Boys!" Tooth, standing by, acted as a referee between the three of them. "Play nice!"

"But he-"

"Don't start with me, Jack!" She narrowed her eyes, "We're going to have a nice, calm, physical therapy session!"

"But-"

"Bunny, don't you start with me too! Or you'll be back in bed before you can say canid!"

Bunny and Jack both grumbled something that ended in "…yes sir…" and said nothing else.

"Good!" Tooth floated in the air nearer to Bunny. Sandy, silently laughing, trailed behind, settling in near Jack. "Ok, where does it hurt most? If we bind it, will it help?"

Bunny's paw skimmed the middle where a large, white bandage wrapped itself and shook his head. "I doubt'i, Bu' it hurts a lo' less. I just haven't been on my feet f'ra while."

"Okay. Then lets start with that. How far can you walk by yourself?"

"Can I use the wall."

"Sure, Aster." Tooth cooed, smiling softly.

"Then I'd say a few good yards."

He'd only make it three. But that was no reason for complaint.

* * *

It took three days of small sessions, just walking in circles around the workshop, climbing stairs, and getting used to hopping again. The latter was the hardest, the reverberations jostling the healing tissue.

It was the oddest family time any of them had ever spent. Sandy had to leave more times than the rest, not having tiny fairies to help do his bidding, but he came when he could. The rest of the time, it was everyone trying to help the stubborn, I-Think-I-Can minded, 6 foot 1 rabbit get back onto his feet. Tooth was the perfect option when it came to the support. And when things began to grow tenser and the atmosphere between the males tightened she brought her surprisingly strong fists down.

North was the strong man, helping when Bunny could no longer support himself and cracking jokes when there were none to be found.

Jack tried to be the multi-tasker. So found himself encompassing any role needing to be filled. Doctor, matron, heavy lifter, support. Whatever he could. Many times, since he could hardly hold the taller Guardian, he followed like a loyal puppy, catching where his feet slipped and giving encouragements when Bunny looked ready to blow a gasket.

It certainly was a strange family time. But in the end, it was rather nice.

And in the end, they had Bunny up and walking by the fourth day.

* * *

It was on the last day of his recovery that Aster sat in the large backed red chair by the fire. Tooth had given him curfew the last few weeks (bed was 10:00 and no later) and finally removed it, allowing him one night to lie by the fire in peace. No one came to check on him. No one came to adjust any covers or pillows. He didn't have to take medicine. And there were no distractions to annoy h-

"Hey… Bunny?"

The timid voice came from behind the chair. With some difficulty, and an annoyed huff, Bunny strained to look around and stare at the Guardian of Fun.

"Yeh."

Jack fidgeted. "You're going back tomorrow…"

"Thas'righ'."

There was silence.

"I probably wont see you for a while… so…" Jack swallowed and Bunny silently prayed that he'd get to the point soon. He just wanted to relax and- "I'm sorry."

Bunny was up in a shot, stumbling over to stand next to the chair, his eyes wide. "Wha-?"

"I'm sorry…" Jack rubbed at his eyes. "I wanted to tell you before, but… if you leave now I wont tell you…" Apparently, it had taken this long just to gather the courage. "You got hurt… because of me…! And I'm sorry. You had to go through all this, and I know that you're annoyed at me but I was really worried and it was all my fault and if you're mad I get it I jus-"

"Whoa! Whoa, Frostbite! Wha's this about yer fault!"

"I didn't move!" He explained it as if it were common sense. "You told me to move. If I had moved, you wouldn't have gotten hurt! But I didn't… I was just so… it was hot and I couldn't… and-"

All annoyance he had felt dissipated and he was crouching in front of the distressed, tongue tied teenager in a second, wincing as his stomach muscles folded. "Jack. Wha' happened to me was _not_ yer fault."

"But if I had-"

"No. Shut it." Jack did, mouth going tight. "Now you listen to me. Wha' I did was _my_ choice. I jumped for ya because I chose ta'. Not cause'a you. Cause'a me. That's just wha' I do though. Always." Jack was quiet, eyes looking away at a carpet on the rug. "Hey… Jack?" He tried to get the spirits attention, and was failing. It appeared only blatent honesty was going to work here. "Jack, I would do it again. If I had ta, I'd do it again."

That got his attention. The glassy blue eyes turned on him in confusion, his brow pinched together. The need to understand etched into his face.

"…but you'd get hurt."

Bunny shook his head. "D'ya think when I jumped, I was thinkin' bout whether I'd get hurt 'r not? Naw mate, I was jus' thinkin' bout one thing." He moved his paw to Jack's shoulder, squeezing it in parental reassurance, trying to tell Jack that what he was saying and would say next was true. Totally and completely true.

"Jack…" his paw gripped onto the youngest's shoulder, "I will _always_ jump fer you. Ya got that? _**Always**_."

Jack's eyes were searching his face for any sign of falsehood. Something, Bunny suspected, he was expecting to see. But when he found none he swallowed hard and nodded.

"Good." He rose to his feet, ruffling Jack's hair. "Now, let me get a nip'a rest. I gotta get goin' in the mornin'."

"Hey Bunny?"

"Yeh?"

"I'd jump for you too. Just so you know… I would."

"Naw mate, that's my job."

"We'll see." The youngest smirked, then padded his way out of the room to find a yeti to annoy.

Bunny watched him leave fondly. His mind wondered briefly what that would be like. If Jack jumped for him. He shivered, shaking his head. He'd never let that happen. Never let that chance of seeing Jack leave enter from stage left. Because Tooth had been right. When she'd asked Aster how they had lived without him, without Jack, she'd been right. They hadn't.

Bunny would jump for any of them. But somehow, he always found himself thinking that the first one would be Jack. Because, in truth, without him… none of them would be able to survive.

They wouldn't have to worry about that, though. He smiled, and plucked Jack's handmade Easter egg from the leather sash, now back on his chest. It was going to stay there for a very long time. Letting it roll back and forth in his palm Bunny simply smiled and relaxed back into the chair.

Bunny was a jumper.

He was born a jumper and he'd die a jumper.

Technically, one might have called him a hopper, since he did an awful lot of that in his lifetime. But really, he was a jumper. He always was, and he always would be.

But really, he was a jumper. He had jumped for Jack… and he'd jump again if he'd have to. Because that's what family did. They jumped.

He looked at the egg one last time before placing it back in its spot on the sash. Then, sighing happily, he fell asleep by the fire.

* * *

**Did you see it? See those paragraphs at the end? Definitely a cliffy, right? RIGHT?! LOL! If you guys want… I can have an update up by, latest, this Friday! Which most likely means I'll have it up by tomorrow or Thursday, but count on Friday. **

**And a quick shout out! There is this AMAZING author named MikoAucarod who is right now translating THIS FIC into ****Spanish!**** I know, right! She is awesome! And if you want to go check it out, it's really cool! I've read it, like, three times. And though I'm not fluent, it's been helping me practice me own Spanish! **

**She's really cool! So go and give her some support, you guys!**

**Ciao!**

**~Gal**


	11. Prick Cut Terror Pain: Jack's Death

**LETS GO FOR 400 REVIEWS, GUYS! WE'RE ALMOST THERE!**

**THANKS SO ALL MY REVIEWERS WHO MAKE THIS POSSIBLE. AND A SPECIAL THANKS TO INSOMNIA, DIET COKE AND PERCY PIGS, WHICH MADE THIS CHAPTER WHAT IT IS TODAY! HUZZAH!**_**  
**_

**GRAB THE TISSUES AND PICK UP THE PITCHFORKS! I'M GOING IN FOR THE KILL THIS TIME GUYS **

**I'll admit. This one was hard to write. I had to listen to many a fast paced song to try and get a hold of how to _write_ panicked. Because that's what this chapter encompasses. Panic. Also hard to write because... it just WAS!  
**

**Okay guys. Here's what's up. This chapter is far from my longest. It's a medium sized chapter, about 4,650 words. It's all from omniscient third person, but looking from Jack's perspective. If that even makes any sense...  
**

**And here's the second thing.  
**

**DO. NOT. KILL. ME. This is the FIRST chapter of an ARC! Which means that there are more to come!  
**

**It was not beta'd because EVERY review I got in the last day was asking if I would PLEASE update soon because you'd all PERISH if I didn't. So... here ya go.  
**

_**Again. Do not kill me. There will be more!  
**_

**And remember that little hint I left you with last chapter? Yeah... I'd hold onto that if I were you. Just... just let that sink into your mind... really let it settle in... and then read this. There ya go! Your ready!**

* * *

o0o

_Of all the gods only death does not desire gifts._

~Aeschylus

o0o

* * *

_**You're not going to die**_. Those were the words that Jack heard, pounding through the darkness. _**You're not going to die**_. And all that could cross his mind was:

_Die?_

Who said anything about death? He wasn't dying. And he was fairly sure that he knew what death felt like. Death was cold. Death was water filling up your lungs. And death was vision slowly going dark. _Death_ was lonely and fear filled. He'd experienced all these things once and, thanks to a certain Baby Tooth, now remembered them quite vividly. Yes. He had known death.

That -whatever _this_ was- was not death.

_This_ was dark, yes. But not unpleasantly so . Maybe it was the voice -one he'd heard before, but for some reason couldn't quite place his finger on. Or it could have been the arms surrounding his body. Also a valid factor.

He finally decided that the main reason was the _warmth_. It was just so... _warm_. But not uncomfortable. Warm was supposed to burn him, hurt him. This was comforting. It had been so long since he'd been warm -300 years actually, give or take a few- and it felt so... perfect. A general progression of heat, beginning at his chest, and slowly dripping downward. Much like a blanket being lain on his figure. And he wanted nothing more than to burrow under it and fall asleep in its embrace. He was so tired, after all. So, so tired.

All he really wanted to do…

… was sleep…

_**Don't you dare**_**. **The voice was back again, angry this time. Jack felt like tilting his head, confusion settling in. Why would this voice be angry at him? What had he done? He wasn't up to any tricks. Only take a quick nap. _**Don't you dare!**_Angrier now.

What did this voice want from him?

_**Wake up! **_Ah. So that's what it wanted. Jack tried to shake his head, but found nothing would respond. He finally settled on just sighing. _Leave me alone,_ he wanted to say, _I'm tired. And warm._

But the voice ceased to leave him alone, now taking up poking him. In the chest. Jack tried to squirm away, the feeling was annoying and repetitive. But the poking and prodding continued.

_I don't wanna wake up! Five more minutes!_

The feeling on his chest became stronger. From gentle nudging to something that actually… hurt. And the hurt became stronger as what had been static before became a constant pressure. _Stop it_, he wanted to say, _hurts._ But it wouldn't stop. It got stronger and stronger, the pain becoming almost unbearable.

A violent wave of pain hit him fast, and he found his sleep disturbed. And with that, Jack Frost opened his eyes to welcome the world around him.

The world around him did not welcome him back.

It was dark, and fast and shapes moved around him as foreboding shadows slipping in and out of the light. There were jumbles of colors everywhere that made no sense. Patterns that changed and shifted and made him nauseous. And the pain… it had become nearly unbearable. _Nearly_. The warmth was helping with some of that. Some small amount solace that was…

No…

The warmth was suddenly shifting into something else. Burning, loss, uncomfortable. It oozed around him, bubbled and frothed. He tried to kick it off, as you would a blanket. But his legs wouldn't work either.

The warmth dripped down his neck, down his shoulders, down his arm and trickled off his fingers. And he was suddenly plagued with the immense desire to know exactly what it was.

She shapes around him began to talk. A low, muffled, cotton-in-mouth kind of talk, brought to such a low volume that he couldn't tell what they said. He thought they might have been shouting.

More thick warmth dripped off his fingers as the next wave of pain was upon him. Jack tried to cry out, but just like the rest of him his voice refused to work.

_C'mon… _he pleaded with himself, _I've gotta know._

How he found the strength to lift his arm, he'd never know. Maybe his plea had been heard. But he did it. And there it was, in his line of vision. An ivory stalk, bare without any sort of sleeve, quivering in the effort to keep itself elevated. His eyes adjusting to everything around him, blurring in and out, edges framed by onyx ripples, and just made out a few things. Rushing, racing blurs of color dragging themselves through his vision. The clearest point, the pinnacle of light through the haze, was his arm. Pure, unscathed, white as fresh snow.

Now smeared with gleaming scarlet.

Jack's breath hitched in his throat.

His eyes flickered down the length of his body, thin and hollow chest, usually covered by the folds of his blue security blanket. Blue. Now red. Red. Red and white.

Blood.

Everywhere. Blood. His body, a torn mess. And as his vision came too, so did his body, screaming at him. Pain. Pain. So much pain, like never before, shooting through him. Burning and tearing and ripping and slicing. And what had been warm before spread like fire, and began to _burn_. The heat surpassing that of any hearth, sizzling and frying away at his skin. He could see red and red and red and white as it tore through... skin?... bone?

Everything around him became clear, and then the world around him suddenly threw itself into fast forward.

"I NEED MORE TOWELS!"

"WATER!"

"ICE! WE NEED ICE! NOW!"

"TEMPERATURE IS RISING!"

"LACERATIONS!"

"FASTER!"

Terror, quick and unforgiving. Pitch tenfold. Surging through him, rocking the pain until both swung out of control. Hurt. Pain. Fear. And only one thought combined them all- the one thought that made sense.

_Get out. Get out now._

Fingers clawed at the surface -a table?- scratched at the wood as he tried to move. Eyes, wide, bloodshot, flickering to try and see captors. All of them large, lurking. Silver tools flashing between cruel fingers. Breathing loud, fast. And finally he moved.

He thought he had known pain. He had been wrong.

Torso arched and screams rang shrill and hoarse, though they were quickly drowned out by the chaos that soon followed.

"HE'S WAKING UP!" Curses, languages he didn't understand, cries of anguish and desperation. Instructions to _hurry, hurry, hurry_. Pricks on his skin turned from tingles into needles, knives. Sharp, quick, _pain_.

He watched, staring down porcelain, as silver met red, red met silver, a harmony of torture and vulnerability. _Pain. Fear. Terror._

His mind went to Pitch. Was this where he was? Pictures of rusted operation tables and worn leather straps entered his minds. Scenes of torture for the sake of torturing. And more importantly, where was everyone else? Had Pitch gotten them too. He couldn't remember much, but…

… there had been a battle…

… maybe?

Was this his punishment as a captive to the enemy? Were the others dead? Were they coming for him?

And then a familiar face materialized. North. North _had_ come. And the joy that ripped off him for that moment beat through the hurt. Until he saw North look strait at him, a sharp object in his hand. North's massive fingers coated with blood.

His blood.

Betrayal, sharper than any knife. North. Why was North _hurting_ him? He was _sorry._ For whatever it was he was _sorry_. Shouts were swimming in his ears, gurgling like the blood that was fauceting from his chest. Dripping, like paint, down.

How he even heard North's voice through any of it, he wasn't quite sure. But he did. The man's accent clear- "'Ee ees panicking! Heart speeding up!" He could feel it too -his heart- as it rang high-pitched beats in his ears, punching through splintered bone. "_Losing too much blood!"_

Horror. Pain. His own pain. Maybe because it was his own, maybe that's why he couldn't look away. Watching his own body give up, begin to drown and die once more. Scared to see it go and willing it to stay, _stay_. Watching as pure skin turned red. Fading into fear. All of it. Fear and terror.

"_Get Sandy!"_ North was shouting, "Someone _please_ GET SANDY!"

"No!" The yell ripped from his throat, arms struggling to be freed; heart once more pounding, pounding, pounding. He didn't want to return to darkness. Didn't want to sleep. Didn't want to _not_ _see_. Even though all he _could_ see was red. Red and silver. Red meeting silver, silver meeting red. Blood and blood and red and-

-green.

His vision changed. What once was horror became the ceiling of North's workshop. The chaos gone from his line of vision. No way of knowing. Whines gurgled from cracked lips. Words -_help, please, __**hurts**_- came with tastes of copper and salt. He couldn't see. Could only hear the terror, feel the pain. Tried to look back, struggled against all odds, weak body trying, _trying_, struggling against all the odds. Someone holding his chin and neck in place, brushes of fur around his shoulders as another arm held him down. _No. No. Please. No no no._

And once more, there was green. A striking, emerald green meeting equally striking blue. Fur, large teeth, ears standing tall.

Comfort, safety...

More sounds exploding and the face was gone as his eyes clamped shut. Noise. Panic. _Terror. Pain. _Sharp sounds coming from him, each exhale a testament of terror.

"_Too much blood! 'Ee ees losing too much blood!"_

Could feel his heart pumping, blood rushing through his ears -like listening to the ocean through a shell. Calming and oh, so terrifying. Another wave hit him, head beginning to go light. Nauseous, dizzy, wanted nothing more than for all of it to just go away.

The arm on his shoulder increased its hold. But not to restrain.

"Breathe." The word came from his left, low and commanding. Reminding him of something he had forgotten to do entirely. So he tried, tried to take in a short breath.

Pain. Exploding, cutting, shredding.

"Breathe!" The voice came again. No. He didn't want to. He didn't want to anymore. The arm increased its hold. "C'mon, Frostbite."

Frostbite?

_Bunny._

Jack could feel Bunnymund's paw on his chin, neck, forcing him to look away. Now that he knew who it was, he could distinguish the rough pads of paws scratching against the delicate column of his throat. Forcing him to look anywhere but at the horror show in front of him. Forcing him to look away. The green. The only other color there.

Thoughts once more gone after another spell washed over. Application of pressure. Burst of white heat.

Prick. Cut. Terror. Pain.

A whine, thin, released itself.

"S'all right, Frostbite." The Aussie voice was a low whisper, desperate. "S'all right. Everythin's alright."

"I... I... c-can...t..." Words, hard to say. Seemingly slipping from him against his own accord.

"Sshh... shh, shh."

"H-hurts..." Coppery taste, like pennies, touching his tongue, warmth now spreading to his abdomen. Air. Air! Breathing scarce.

Prick. Cut. Terror. Pain.

"I know. But ya gotta hold on. You've always been a stubborn bugger," forced humor, he could hear it. An attempt that worked on neither party, "So jus'... hold on. Think you can do that?"

"N-n-..." _No._ And he meant it.

"Then we're gonna do it together." The arm around his shoulders shifted into something akin to a hug, the now sweat-coarse fur tickling against the base of his throat. And for a moment, just a moment, Jack swore he could hear the rabbit's voice go thick. Pleading. Begging... _him_? "You an' me."

Prick. Cut. Terror. Pain.

He must have winced, because the paw was on his skin now, smoothing back hair. "I know, I know. But here's what we're gon' do." His low whisper became encouraging, giving instructions. "On three, yer gonna breathe. Fer me. One deep breath. An' I'm gonna do it with ya."

No. Jack didn't want to work _with _people. Jack was a loner. That's what he did. So before listing any further he took a breath, his own stubborn streak shining through for a mere moment in time. His chest began to tingle, and then the coughs began. Panic. Copper coating, rising from the back of his throat.

_Can't breathe, can't breathe..._

Panic, drowning, cutting, searing-

A paw massaging at his throat, words -reprimanding, desperate, harsh- meeting deaf ears.

"No! Together! I know ya wanna do it 'lone, but together!" The hand back on his face once more. "You aren't alone on this. You aren't alone." The other paw, what had currently held his chin, released its vice-like grip, squeezed his fingers, "On three, yer gonna breathe. With me. Ready?" Didn't wait to hear a reply, though it was obvious none would come. "One. Two-"

No, he didn't want to. He didn't want any more pain. He didn't want any more hurt.

"C'mon, Frostbite. You've gotta listen. Really, really listen. Breathe with me. One... Two... Three."

And Jack listened. And he breathed.

The air passing through his lungs exploded into fire. Another shot of pain. But this time there was an arm hugging his shoulder. The other beginning to favor his hair, brushing the sweat soaked locks back. The terror, ricocheting off of every corner of his mind, began to slow. Trust. The first inkling of trust.

"Tha's good!" Relief evident in the voice. Relief and terror, wrapped in a firm embrace. "Try it again. With me." He did. More pain. Less terror.

"_Good_, Bunny! Quick, quick! Faster!" North' somewhere in the room. Didn't know where, he couldn't see. But he could _feel_. More pricking at his chest, now more evident. Images, words, filling what his eyes could not see. Cut. Slice. Blood. Sew. Hurt. Terror. Blood- Mews released themselves. He was afraid. And scared. And terrified. And-

Another cry, too weak to scream. Vision pulsing.

"We are loose-ing him!"

Jack felt something fall down his face. Sweat? No... water.

"Jack." The voice, calm, deep, horse, cut through the buzz. "Jack, ya gotta listen ta me. Breathe. Ya gotta breathe, akay? Fer me, ya gotta breathe."

"_Heart beat too fast! WHERE EES SANDY?"_

"My faries are getting him! He was working!" Panic in her voice. "He doesn't even know!"

Another burst as he _hear_ something around him snap. Something on his chest. He tried to scream, but it came out as a sort of gurgle, and his breath began to go static.

"Bunny! Do somet'ing!" Hands back on his chest, "Quickly! He must breathe! If heart rate rises more, he weel lose too much blood!" Jack could barely see. But he did see Bunny's eyes fill with an emotion rarely displayed by the Pooka. Fear?

"Mate, ya gotta calm down. Just breathe."

He was trying, he really was. But it was getting harder and harder to comply. His chest was vibrating, his lungs simply… giving up. The water was swiped off his face by a frantic hand, the touch in itself a hopeful gesture. Wiping off water as Jack's fever increased, melting the frost off of him. Meant to soothe the blistering heat. But it did little to help him, only to offer a mere acknowledgement presence.

_I'm trying! Help me, I can't do this alone! _The first time he admits he needs help, and it's in his darkest hour.

But now he was alone. There was only so much they could do, and he knew it.

And then everything around him shifted. Colors burst, sounds splattered and his chest and back arched as something in him… broke.

"JACK!" Someone called his name. But who, he wasn't really sure anymore.

He wasn't sure of anything.

"Sweet Tooth! You've got to hold on!" Delicate fingers trailed over his own. "_Just hold on!"_ _I can't, I __**can't**__! "North! Help him!"_

"I AM TRYING! _WHY EESN'T THIS WORKING?"_

"WORK _FASTER!"_

"_HE'S __NOT BREATHING!"_ And he wasn't really sure he was.

He wasn't sure of anything at all. Just the flashing and the noise and the chaos and the arms, pushing him down, forcing him to still his writhing body. Familiar arms that encircled him. He tried to fall into them, to feel any ounce of comfort that he could. But he couldn't see, move, hear, speak… live.

He could feel, though.

Prick.

Cut.

Terror.

Pain.

His fingers clawed, his throat wretched, his chest split and his blood spilled.

He felt some of the wooden table underneath him fit itself beneath his fingernails. Copper bubbled.

He was going to die. That was the realization that hit him hardest. He was going to die, and he didn't know why. When he had drowned, he'd at least done it for someone. At least died in a place that was quiet and calm. Here...

... there was blood. There was pain. There was panic. There was chaos.

He'd drowned peacefully.

And here, lying on the table, choking and struggling and _hurting_, he couldn't even see the moon. Just the ceiling above him, the red over him, the silver around him and the green eyes that flashed in and out of his vision above him.

And through all that one voice that he did recognize. One voice that had a name. And the same voice that said his.

"Jack? Jack, listen to me. Right now, listen ta' me." Jack could feel sharp whiskers brushing his face as the rabbit bent down low. Whispering a message for Jack and Jack alone.

"**MORE STITCHES!"**

"**FASTER**!"

"**...LOSING HIM!"**

Prick. Cut. Terror. Pain.

"Jack. I promise, I _promise_ you. Right now-"

"**QUICK!"**

"**FASTER!"**

"**HEART RATE, TOO FAST!"**

"-I'm not gonna let _anythin'_ happen to'ya." Green eyes, paws around him, sheltering. Hope. Slivers of desperate, weakening, hope.

"**WHERE EES SANDY!"**

"**NEED MORE WATER!"**

"**ICE! WE NEED ICE!"**

"You've gotta trust me. Yer gonna be fine. Ya jus' gotta believe in me."

Yeti's roars, bells jingling down the hallways. The smell of antiseptic strong in the air mixed with smells of home- eggnog, pine, cans of paint. Wings buzzing overhead.

With every last bit of strength in his body, Jack looked up at Bunny and uttered the only thing that he could think of. The single, honest sentence on his mind. And it flowed out like a sad song.

"_I... d-don't wanna d-die..._"

Bunny's fingers tightened. "You ain't gonna... I won't let..." a shaky breath tousled his hair. Bunny had bent closer to him. "Yer gonna be... g-gonna be fine."

Scrabbling, clawing, clashing.

Prick. Cut. Terror. Pain.

"Because I promise ya', I _swear_, I won't let _anythin_' happen. I'm gonna stay right 'ere. And I will always-"

Prick. Cut. Terror. Pain.

"-_Always_-"

Prick. Cut. Terror. Pain.

"-_**protect you."**_

* * *

Guardians have little use for time. Besides their holidays and assignments, all of which they dedicated every moment too, they never really had a need to look at a clock. This, however, meant in no way that time didn't work for them. Like any other human being, they could not escape time. And like any other human being, there actions were counted by the very seconds that ticked by, and each word that was said every minute of every day.

And that night, as there was screaming and crying and pleading, a solitary clock that hung on the plain, wooden wall, watched it all.

It was at 3:24 A.M. when Jack's stitches were finally completed. At 3:38, his blood caked chest had begun to be wrapped, and two minutes later (3:40), it was finished.

By 3:44, Jack Frost had reached a temperature of 68 degrees Fahrenheit.

3:50, it had gone up to 77.

It was another five minutes, at 3:49, until Jack had coughed up blood. Another seven (3:56) went by, at which point Jack's breathing became less of a function, and instead became a struggle. By 3:57 A.M. the room was once more in chaos. Noise, movement, tools at the ready, snow packed onto a frail, failing body. The only quiet, stable thing, the Pooka's low whispers to jack.

Small whispers, commanding. And so low, as to be meant for only the two of them to ever know. A secret with no value.

"Come back, Jack. Ya gotta follow my voice. Listen ta me an' follow me back."

3:57:45 A.M.

"I promised ta protect ya', but ya gotta 'elp me."

3:57:56

"Yer my family. An family doesn't just pack up and leave."

3:58:04

North's large hands pushing down on the small, warm chest. Fixed ribs groaning, more blood coughed. Small whimpers, winces, curling fingers into stagnate fists.

"Frostbite, if ya die..." a pause, the thought discarded, "... if ya don't... if ya leave, I'll find ya' again and clobber you m'self."

3:58:24

"Because if ya leave..." His hand gripping the fist that didn't dare uncurl. The feverish body shaking under North's strain. More shouts for snow, ice, water.

3:58:38

3:58:39

3:58:40

"If ya leave..."

There was shouting and chaos blurring all around them. Time, for a moment, seemed to stand still. But time in actuality, as it has a terrible habit of doing, went on.

3:58:41

3:58:45

3:58:47

"It's m' job ta' protect ya," his whiskers brushed the cold cheek,

3:59:02

"To always, always protect ya."

More running, shouting, words of dangers and warning and calls for help from people who simply couldn't come fast enough. The tip tap of feet mirroring the slight tick tock of the clock behind them. Counting, counting, always counting.

3:59:46

3:59:47

3:59:48

Bunny was going deaf from the noise his sensitive ears had been exposed to. Though it hardly mattered. All he could hear was the powerful thum-_thump_ of his heart against his brain, tearing through his ribs.

"Don't you dare!" It was the first time he had gotten angry all night, gripping at shoulders, wet with sweat, water... blood. "Don't... don't you dare."

3:59:52

"You can't leave. Because... we... we..."

3:59:54

"Because I love ya. We love ya. So much… An' that should be enough." Eyes venturing quickly out to the moon, gazing at silent craters. "…please…" the whispered plea was an automatic one. "… _please_ tell me it's enough…"

And all the moon did,

3:59:54

was stare back at Aster, silently.

3:59:57

"Don't do it." Bunny's words to the moon were coming from a place he hardly understood. How the moon took people, he had no idea. He hardly even knew if the moon took people at all; didn't know if that was in his control.

3:59:58

But he asked anyway. Staring through windowpanes, through the frost dripping down from the windows, which left the image wavy and distorted. "Don't. Don't let him leave." And for a few seconds Aster felt the same elation many did when they felt hope. When they felt that their simple words had enough power, enough control, to allow for the impossible to occur. To allow for everything, with those simple and powerless words, to become possible. To control, to conquer, to stop the impossible.

3:59:59

But the impossible is called that for a reason. And the moon is just a rock in the sky. And the time just keeps on moving around them.

And at 4:00 A.M. exactly…

… Jack Frost's heart...

…finally…

…

…

…

…stopped.

And Bunny hadn't even been watching.

And the clock...

4:00:01

... ticked on.

* * *

Jack relished in the sudden silence. How everything had gotten so silent, he wasn't sure. But everything was silent. And comfortable. Grass beneath his back and tickling his toes, sun on his face. Wiggling his fingers he found he could do so without any pain, and for the first time in what seemed to be a while, he smiled. Now, if he could just go to sleep _here_...

There was a shuffling in the distance and he sat up, looking around. And though the scenery around him was begging to be looked at, his eyes were drawn to the solitary figure. Tall, lanky with brown hair and eyes. Her delicate hands crossed over the apron that covered a simple brown peasant dress. Standing on shaky legs, he looked again. In front of the girl was a hopscotch court. Next to the girl, a lake.

"Jack."

The voice took his breath away. One he'd heard from his mother's mouth. And one other person's. Younger, higher pitched. But still the same. Jack blinked twice and then stepped forward. And for once in so many, many years, he felt whole again.

"Pippa..." he breathed. And then he walked towards her.

* * *

o0o

It's not an easy thing to be let go.

~Alice Barrett

o0o

* * *

**That's it! This chapter has officially ended! Chapter 2 coming soon...ish? IDK, when would you want the next chapter up? You tell me! **

**And just for confirmation. YES I KNOW JAMIE'S FRIENDS NAME IS PIPPA! But until she's named by Dreamworks and is kept as Pippa on this site by a fair amount of people, she will remain to be Pippa. Sorry, guys. I know it's awfully uncreative. But... what the hey, right.  
**

**Thanks so much to all my reviewers! You are all amazing!  
**

**My present to you, for your dedication. Here's a tissue. I'd hold onto that... next chapter ain't any better.  
**


	12. The Hopscotch Court: Jack's Death Part 2

**Here it is peeps! The next update that I promised would come! Okay... this was hard to write. I had most of it done. But the rest of it... ugh... SO DIFFICULT! I don't know if I love this chapter or not. I'll let you decide whether or not its any good. But, hey, whatever! We'll see if I can actually still write. I did most of this at 2 a.m. and the inspiration fairy that usually pounds against my brain decided to take a day off... damn her.**

**So yeah! Tell me what you think! And don't worry. This arc is far from over. There are going to be at least three more parts to this! Oh yeah. I'm the Queen of Unnecessarily Long One-Shot Arcs!  
**

**And again. Not my best. Long... but still... not my best. So I really hope that you like this one!  
**

**And you guys! We made it to 500 reviews!  
**

**YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING! YOU REALLY ARE!  
**

**SO much credit to my beta mjbaerman! She truly is an awesome person with the amount of help she gave me. There are actually two lines she gave me herself that went right into this story. And every bit of help got me out of any block that came my way!  
**

**YOU ARE AMAZING!  
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**ONTO THE STORY!  
**

**Oh, and many, many thanks to Menolly5600! She noticed a major plot hole that I fixed right away! Thanks so much! My 2 a.m. brain wasn't functioning right, and you saved me from the hole I'd dug my self into! You kinda saved this chapter! :)  
**

* * *

o0o

_For every path you choose, there is another you must abandon, usually forever. _

~Joan D. Vinge

o0o

* * *

It was Tooth who saw it first.

Through the veil of thick naïvety they had stayed hopeful to Jack's health. Only Bunny, asking for the impossible from the moon that drifted just out of the windows wooden frame. It's silver beams cast themselves on the floor, but never touched any of them. As if ashamed.

North's dense voice, calling out orders as if going into battle. Yeti feet made the workshop quiver and the elf hats only added to the hysterics- so many sounds. Everything was moving, except for Jack. The most noise he'd made were the mews and whimpers that shred through their brains. The yelps and painful protests staining their hands through the blood.

But they kept going. They were enduring anything if it was for him. _Anything_ for him.

Sandy's dolphins frantically bobbed around the room, trying to please anyone who would watch. Occasionally they would cut through air and brush against the grey face, trying to get a reaction from their favorite child. Sandy's brow furrowed in concentration. North's hands sheen with blood. Tooth's wings blurred in frantic harmony.

Bunny, staring out the window. His red stained hands leaving scarlet prints against the fogged glass.

So much noise, chaos, hurt, sadness. So how the cry had reached any of their ears was strange. They'd hardly heard North's booming baratone, and now Tooth's shrill chirp had them all stilled was a mystery. But it did, and all eyes had quickly rounded on the fairy.

"Tooth!" North broke out of it first, "No time for stop! We must-"

"He's not breathing…" she whispered it through the cracks in her fingers. "He's not breathing!"

Her tiny hands running through his hair, babbles coming from lips, begging, pleading, telling Jack to wake up. North in a moment trying to shout orders that made sense when really there was nothing that could be done.

But he was going to try.

_Try._

Try is such a funny word, isn't it? The dictionaries simple way of explaining it is by saying it means:

"Make an attempt or effort to do something"

And that is all.

What the dictionaries and hopeful individuals never stop to think about is what try truly means. Try means that you've lost. Try means that you've lost, and now you're attempting to get back up. The resilience of a country, a town, an individual, a world. Big and small the wars are fought and those who lose must _try_. They must _try _to find ways to get back up and they must _try _to believe that they have another day to win, another day when they wont have to _try_ anymore.

A wise man once said, never try- just do.

No one who ever tries can win.

Because they've already lost.

And yet North still _tried_, pushing air through the frail body. And Tooth still _tried_, talking nonsense to a Body that no longer held the ability to hear her soft coos. And Sandy still _tried_, the tendrils bursting what life they could through the rooms. Dreams were all they had now.

And Bunny _tried_.

He tried to hold back what sanity he had left.

He tried to hold in his anger and hate and sadness and frustration.

He tried to keep himself together.

And he _tried_ to wake himself up from the nightmare he was stuck in.

But trying means that you've already lost. And sometimes, as much as one tries, there is no going back from where you've fallen. You either pick yourself up, or you don't. But you never, ever _try_.

But sometimes, when trying is all you have, you have to pretend its enough.

Against death… there is not much one can ever do. It's out of the hands of the loved and the lovers, the souls and the soulless, the families and their own. And when something so permanent takes hold with spindly fingers and pulls, sometimes all you can do is _try_ to break it's grasp.

And so they all did that.

They _tried._

And trying was not enough.

* * *

"Pippa." Jack breathed it, allowing the word to flow from his lips. It had been so long since he'd said his sisters name, so long since he'd had the chance to say it to her. Since he'd fallen in that day and-

-and gone away.

"Hello, Jack." Her smile was the same, full. The freckle under her right eye twitching as her smile-lines extended. "It's been a long time."

He moved quickly, plans of embracing her and never letting her go thick on his mind. His feet moved over the grass and towards the hopscotch court, arms out and ready to-

"Oof!" Something stopped him. He placed his palms against thin air, and found that they didn't allow him to pass. The chalk lines on the ground were his border, and he was not allowed to cross it.

Pippa gave him a sad look. "Sorry… I couldn't tell you in time… you just ran…" She pointed towards him. "We're separated, you and I. Until you make a decision. And then… well… you're free to pass. But until then, we can't touch."

"But... decision?"

"Look down."

"Pippa-"

"Look down, Jack." He did. "Do you see that hopscotch court. Right at your feet?" He nodded. How could he have not seen it? It stuck out like a sour thumb amongst the greenery. "That's out line. That's the line that separates us. And… it's also what's going to be your way out."

"I can't cross…?"

"No. I can cross it," she shrugged. "But that's because it's not my path. It's yours."

"My way out…?" still confused he stepped back, his heart aching now more than ever. His first time seeing his sister in over three hundred years, and this was what happens. "What do you mean."

"Jack…" she hesitated. "You're… dead."

"I know." He did know. He didn't remember the dying part, but he remembered what had come before. The pain, the fear, the loss of knowing and caring. And afterwards, the sweet arrival of darkness. And then… this. "I know."

"You're dead." She repeated. "But… you haven't quite… crossed over yet." Her finger pointed towards the court. "If you cross this line, then you've crossed over. But," and she pointed to the ten square, "if you cross over _there_, you get to go back."

"I don't understand."

"What don't you understand."

"Why am I being given all these chances. I'm dead. That's the end of it. Isn't it?"

"Well… not quite." She smirked, "I had to call in some favors. But I wanted to make sure that I got to talk to you one last time. Before…" Pippa stopped, swallowed. "That's not important. I just really wanted to talk to you, that's all."

"Oh…" Jack looked at the ground, then at his sister. "So… what happens if I cross the line over to _there_." She squirmed, obviously not wanting to go into much depth.

"Well… if you do cross over, you get to stay… here."

"Here."

"Yes… with me." She didn't miss how Jack's blue eyes lit up, or how his smile widened.

"Really!" His back straitened and he strode to the very border, his toes just touching the line. "Tell me how, Pippa!" Jack bounced on his heels, "Tell me how! I'm going to do it! And then… and then I'll stay with you!" And then he'd finally get to be happy. He'd finally have his family back. He'd finally get to be _just Jack_.

Jack Frost deflated when his sister opened her mouth.

"Jack… I don't want you to stay with me."

And Jack's world, promptly, shattered.

* * *

Bunny's mind took minutes to process what was going on. Staring at the moon, he'd looked down to see the young boy's face had gone grey, lifeless. The hand he'd been holding, now left without anyone to hold it, fell limp on the tabletop.

"…Jack…?" The name was forced out, his paw leaving the cold window. "Jack!?"

No answer.

"Jack!" He was at the boys side in moments. "Jack, mate, wake up!"

"Bunny-"

He ignored North's calls, his paws on Jack's bare shoulders, roughly shaking the delicate form. "Jack, now ain't the time for games! Wake up, ya bloody show pony! WAKE UP!"

"Bunny, he ees-"

"He ain't gone, North." His paws on the chest now, pulsing down, "He ain't gone! He wouldn't leave!"

"Bunny!"

"Bugga' off, North!"

Jack's head lolled but did nothing more, his sweat soaked hair sliding across his forehead as he shook under the static movements.

But Bunny wouldn't let it sink in. _Refused_ to let it sink in. This boy could not be dead. He wasn't dead because he wasn't allowed to be dead. Too stubborn to allow the reaper to simply take his hand and lead him off. Too stubborn to leave any of them.

"He was supposed to play that prank next week." Bunnymund pounded frantically, "he threatened me! He said he… he was gonna play that prank on me! He _has_ ta do it! Jack! _Wake up and play the bloody prank_!" Why wasn't he waking up? Why weren't the blue eyes opening. Why wasn't the boy jumping up and yelling _gotchya_ yet? Why wasn't-

He was being torn away by larger hands, someone yelling at him to _stop_. But he didn't want to stop. None of them understood. They had to try. The boy would have tried for them, and he'd be left a fool if he didn't do the same.

"No… no!" he threw off the hand on his shoulder, reached down and gripped at Jack's face, brushed back his hair. "Look at me, Frost. Look at me! Dammit, I'm supposed ta be tha jumper!" But Jack's eyes wouldn't open, didn't open. And the hand on his shoulder, once more pulling him away, just made him realize more and more that what he was experiencing wasn't a dream. It was reality. And he didn't want it anymore.

So he did what came to him first. He lashed out.

And hit North.

His punch sent the man staggering backwards. North was up in a moment, the blow hardly doing anything to him. And before Bunny could really react the man had him in an arm lock.

"Bunny! Vhat has gotten into you!"

"Let go'a me! I gotta ge'ta Jack!"

"Stop eet!" The large man was pushed again, harder this time, as Bunnymund's anger was full force. The small room wasn't ideal for this sort of fighting match, so when the man did fall, he fell hard, nearly missing the dresser by a few inches and falling on his back by the bookshelf.

Bunny stood there, towering over the man for once, anger coursing through his veins. He would have jumped the man again, had North not gotten to his feet in a manner of seconds. Bunny lunged for him, but North was faster –a mind not clouded is one to win. And Bunny found himself restrained.

"Le' me go! I have ta-"

"Bunnymund, stop eet."

"If I don't-"

"He's _dead_, Bunny. He. Ees. _Dead_."

And Bunnymund, at the cruel realization, deflated.

There was a moment when they both stood, wrapped in a forceful embrace, breathing out of control, and then Bunny struggled away and stood, stooped, looking at the floor.

"He's dead, Bunny." The adrenaline from the fight was all keeping North's voice steady. "And no amount of fighting ees going to bring him back."

They stared one another down for a minute. Bunny was the first to break the gaze, and turned, striding out of the room. And once more, the room was left quiet and cold.

North rubbed at his face with both hands, the need to simply sit forever and never get up was immense. Instead, he looked up at Tooth. She'd taken a place next to Jack, as if to guard him from the fight and the words. Her fingers stroking through his hair and fresh tears sliding down her face and dripping through feathers. Her eyes were closed, and her lips moved in silent prayer, murmuring things to the boy as she touched her forehead to his.

"Tooth…?" She didn't answer, only flinching, shoulders bending in on themselves. "Tooth." The hand on her shoulder awakened her, and she gazed at the Russian with eyes full of sorrow.

"What… what are we going to do…?" And North had no answer.

He allowed Tooth only ten more minutes in the deathly silence. The frost on the windows had left, and there was no sign of snow outdoors. Just the gently rapping of mournful wind as it passed by the window, making u-turns back to tap at it again. Ten more minutes of allowing Tooth to stay where she was. Ten more minutes where he had to be the strong one, and not crumble as all the elements were urging him to do.

And after those ten minutes had passed he called in the Yeti's…

…who draped the thin, white sheet, over the boy.

They sat for only a moment more, before North dragged Tooth out. She'd gone numb, hardly protesting anymore. Nothing really mattered. She just couldn't look anymore on the cold, stagnate face. And North could no longer stare at that of a fallen warrior.

The blood on his hands stung enough, burying itself into every ounce of skin and clothing. And no amount of washing would get it out.

And after they'd left, Bunny went in.

* * *

"Jack, I'm gone! If you stay with me-" Pippa was trying to reason with the boy who simply didn't seem to understand. Who just wanted more than anything to allow her to see his point of view.

"We'll be happy!"

"Jack, I was happy. I had a husband and children- two girls and a boy." Her eyes became distant for a moment, almost sad. "My husband wanted to follow Christian tradition and name the boy after himself. I didn't refuse many things, but I did for that. We named him Jack." Older Pippa was silent for a moment, recalling times of children and borrowed names. But soon she was back, her brown eyes clear once more. "I got a family, Jack."

"B-but I didn't get to see it!"

"You never will!" A sigh escaped her lips. "You'll never see them because they're gone too. Moved on and gone. And… and what you'll have in this world will be nothing but a silly fantasy, a game. I'm not saying that you can't stay. I'm just saying that it _wont be real_!"

"You used to love games!"

"This is different," she furrowed her brow, frustration showing through for just a second. "If you play this game for too long, you'll forget that's what it is. And I don't want you to forget."

"I don't want to either," he didn't," But… I promised to protect you." He wished right then that he had his staff, his knuckles would be turning white if he'd had it clutched in his hand. "It was my job to protect you."

There was a long silence. The birds in the trees around them were the only ones that filled the void. Silence- blissful and calming silence. Pippa screwed up her face, listening to something else. Her arm extended across the hopscotch court. "Come here, Jack." He gave her a look, hesitating. "I won't force you back. That's your own choice. I just want you to hear something." He hesitated again, but stepped forward and took his sisters hand in his own. She walked backward slowly, allowing for one of his bare feet to just scrape the 1 square:

_FROSTBITE! FROSTBITE, PLEASE! I PROMISED! I PROMISED!_

_Sweet Tooth! Wake up!_

_Chyort voz'mi! Sandy, help me! Quickly!_

_Frostbite! BREATHE! C'mon, just one breath! I promised! I promised! I pr-_

Jack reeled back and clutched the fabric on his chest, his shirt bunching up and wrinkling. Something, it seemed, had been tugging, aching, banging against his ribs. Aching still. Aching, twisting and empty.

"Who were they?" She hardly gave him a minute to recover before jumping into the questions.

"M-my fam- friends. J-just friends."

His sister hummed. "They seemed to care an awful lot for 'just friends.'" More silence. Jack rubbed the middle of his chest where the feeling seemed to be sticking, the ache not having gone away. He tried to scrape it off, but that didn't seem to be working either. "There was one voice there…" Jack jumped, staring at the older version of his sister. "I promise… that was what he said." Brown eyes met brown eyes. "Who was that?"

"Bunny… his name is Bunny." He fisted his shirt, tugging at it a little to see if he could peel away the pain. It resisted.

"What did he promise?"

Memories of chaos, blood, pain. Somewhere there, whispered promises holding him together, trust like never before, hands grasping in desperate attempts. A taut rope where two held an end each, and one refused to let the other release it. Something strong he'd felt only once before…

"_Protect_…" the word came easily one it had been found. "He promised to protect me."

"Funny," Pippa's smile was sad now, "that's what you promised me." Her eyes drifted again toward the waters of the lake, sparking in the bright sunlight. "On this lake. Right there," she pointed to the spot, a few meters from the shore. "Right there you promised me that. And you did. We were skating, remember?" A small giggle came forth, though there was hardly any humor in the sound. "You had me play hopscotch."

"… yeah…" He looked at the lake with her now. No snow or ice coated its surface. Instead, in its place, greenery. He rarely saw the lake in the springtime, only once or twice when he'd been especially adventurous. But he wasn't about to do that anytime soon. It was nice. "I promised to protect you. But… I died. I didn't get to see you grow up or live your life. I wanted to keep on protecting you forever."

"There's no such thing as forever, Jack."

"I know that! But… but…"

"You didn't feel like you'd finished the job."

Yes! Yes, that's exactly how he felt. His little sister had been his purpose in life. His job had been to keep her safe and free from harm. And yet, he'd let her down. Not only allowing himself to be taken, but also allowing her to live with the thoughts that she'd seen her older brother die, right in front of her eyes.

As if knowing what he was thinking, she piped in, "You didn't fail. You did protect me," a beat, "Just… not as long as you'd have liked."

"I shouldn't have died."

"That wasn't up to you."

"I wasn't ready."

"Well, neither was I." Her tone at the end had something akin to blame in it, and though it faded quickly, he didn't fail to catch it. Her hands wound around herself in defense and she looked back towards the reflections.

They stood in the glade for a few moments, separated only by the hopscotch court that neither could cross. The two of them, looking out towards the water, avoiding everything else, even each other.

* * *

The white sheet was draped over Jack's body, molding to his form. His eyes, lips, nose, outlined like clay. The sheet fitting itself around his arms and legs. The cotton soaked up all the fluids and soon scarlet splotched bloomed and speckled like poppies through the snow. A memorial garden for a lost warrior.

And that was what Bunny stared at. Standing in the freezing room, he stared at the memorial garden. He looked at where Jack's head was. Where his chest and feet lay. A memory of what used to be.

The white sheet stood out in the room. A sign, a covering, a _pall_. Jack wasn't covered in a sheet. He was covered in a death bed. He was covered, because he was dead. And had been covered to take away from that.

They'd thought that if they covered him, some of the memories would be covered with it. And maybe it would make it easier to mourn.

It just made it harder.

Not ten minutes ago the spirit had died, and now he was already being readied for his funeral march.

And Bunny glared at it. He glared at the sheet. He glared at the Body that lay under it and the moon that shone above it. He glared at the room and the blood on the floor and on the table. He glared at it because he hated it. Because he was so intensely and ferociously mad. He. Was. Mad.

And just standing in that room fueled his rage even more.

It had taken him beating up North, hopping around the workshop and just standing in front of the white shroud to realize what he was mad at. And when he did realize it, his anger grew tenfold.

Bunny was angry at Jack.

* * *

Tooth kneeled on the floor of her room, too tired to move. How she'd even ended up there, she had no idea. But there she was, staring at the wall. She'd long given up the task of wiping tears from her eyes. They refused to leave.

Never in her life would she have thought she'd see a fellow member die.

It had been a thought she'd had when they as a team, had fought. The four of them, facing villains.

And then Jack had come along.

Through that, they'd become a family. Something that was stronger than just a group. Something that had grown to levels she never thought could be reached. Suddenly there was more than just mutual respect. There had been love and care and appreciation. There had been a constant presence of at least one of them. Faces became more familiar as they showed themselves more frequently. Life had more meaning as it was lived to every limit that could be made.

They'd never been truly happy, she decided.

Not until Jack had come.

It was strange too. For three hundred years they had ignored him. Resented him. Thought of him as a person who was simply there…

And then he'd become part of their group.

She hadn't expected him to do much for them. After all, what did they deserve after how they'd treated him? They didn't deserve the happiness. The glow he got when they complimented or greeted him. The excitement that lit up his face when any one of them entered the room. Like he was the lucky one. And they didn't deserve love.

And yet, he did love them.

Enough to give up anything.

Enough to jump.

Enough to die.

Tooth stared at her blood stained knees and hands. Life wasn't fair.

* * *

Sandy stared at the sky through his window.

He'd been in that sky just hours before, giving dreams to children. It had been his duty for the night. While a battle had ensued, he'd had to keep dreams alive. They had decided not to take chances this time, and not allow a single child's belief to falter, not even for a second.

He'd been the one to come up with the idea.

Give dreams to the children about them. How could their belief waver, even for a second? It was a great plan.

And he'd just had to start it that night.

He'd missed the battle.

He'd missed the jump.

He'd missed Jack.

Tooth's fairies had come to get him as he'd been over London. The coos and chirps had been frantic, but the message was clear enough.

_Jack's hurt. Come now._

And just like that, he had come. But sometimes luck just wasn't on his side. And he'd been too late. Zipping through the halls of Santoff Clausen, he'd followed the sounds of the tortured screams. He'd only had to listen to the crying and wailing of a child in pain. His last minutes of pain.

He'd been too late to even relieve him of that.

And as he'd conjured up the first few dolphins, Jack had begun to give up. Sandy could see it. He could see as the boy began to lose the battle. As he decided that it was time to let go, because holding on could no longer be done.

If he'd been there on time…

It was like Macbeth, he decided. Out damn spot… that was what the woman had said. The blood from the death caused by her hands had forever stayed burned in her mind. And looking down at his hands, hands which hadn't even touched blood, he could see it. Spotting the golden body, he could see the blood that he had spilled.

It was ironic, really. Jack had once jumped for him. Or, he'd tried to. Jack had been there at his final hour, when black sand had claimed him in an ebony grasp. He'd been there to see Sandy close his eyes and give in, knowing that there was no other option. He'd been there to fight for the man when no one else would.

And when that same boy needed him most…

Sandy stared at his hands once more. Glittering and shimmering. Hands that were meant to bring good dreams and comfort to children of the world.

If they'd give him the chance, he'd drag Jack back from where he'd gone. Like Jack had done for him with a simple touch, he'd bring Jack back from the dark abyss. And he'd keep him from the fear and the cold and the loneliness forever.

But life doesn't always work like that.

The Sandman suddenly felt like the cruelest man in the world.

* * *

North stared at the moon through the panel in the ceiling. Hovering just on the edge, it seemed to be trying to hide behind the walls. Hiding from shame.

North watched the moon with a heavy crease in his brow. He had yet to call upon Manny – wasn't sure if he had the strength to speak to an entity that could have helped, could have stopped all this. Prevented Tooth from weeping openly on the blood-dirtied floor. Prevented the Wonder Saint from having to pry a giant hysterical rabbit off a body gone cold for the only reason it shouldn't have. Prevented said Pooka from losing his senses completely, throwing death threats and fists until he shut himself off to near catatonic levels, storming away to god knows where.

But Jack Frost was dead, and Manny hadn't done a thing to stop it.

"Vhere the hell were you?!" North roared to the skylight.''

The moon didn't answer.

"Vhy…?" It was the only question he had to ask as he looked up, his fists tight. "Why didn't you help us?"

The moon didn't answer.

"You've saved Jack before! But now… when 'ee 'as us! Vhen he 'as family and home and… and… _love_. And you do not'ing!" North wanted nothing more than to fly up to the moon. But he couldn't do that. Not even with his sleigh. So instead, he took a few steps forward, revealing more of the moon in his line of vision.

"You wait! You wait 'till Jack has everyt'ing! And den you rip away! Rip away from 'im! From _us_? Vhy would you choose to be so cruel!? VHY!?"

And the moon didn't answer.

"You have always been there. But now… now you stand alone. _Coward._" He spat the last word up towards the lunar circal, and watched as it almost shivered. "Tell me vhy!"

And the moon didn't answer.

"Jack ees… DEAD! 'EE EES DEAD! AND YOU DO NOT'ING! VHY?! TELL ME VHY!?"

"…"

And the moon didn't answer.

And in the silence, under the cruel beams of the moon, North finally allowed himself to break.

* * *

"Jack? Do you remember why you chose hopscotch?"

He didn't answer, stubbornly watching a ripple instead.

"Well I do. Because you didn't want me to be afraid. You found a way to avoid fear, even when fear was blocking everything. With a game, Jack. You did all that with a simple game."

"You were so scared." He remembered her large eyes, small body shaking, planted in its place. "I just… you were so scared."

"You're scared now."

A fish jumped and he searched the spot, ignoring her words and the truth behind them. The twisting in his stomach, the clenching of his hand, mimicking the clenching in his chest that refused to leave him alone. They were all attempted to be ignored. It was a failed attempt. The blur in his eyes proved that. Was he scared? Yes. He was more afraid then he'd ever been in his entire life. More than when Pitch had trapped him, more than when he'd been alone, more than memories of sinking in cold water were delivered to him in times when all hope was lost and staves lay broken on the ground. Yes. He was afraid.

"Why?"

Jack wiped at his eyes and nose with his sleeve. His eyes stubbornly refused to dry, threatening to flow over. Especially when he thought of Tooth. She'd have reprimanded him; would have told him to use a tissue. Jack sniffled.

"Jack?"

"It hurt." The same fish came up for more food, splashing on the surface with a snapping bite.

"What hurt?"

"I- I don't know." His voice was so quiet, small. "I woke up and… and everything… Pippa! It h-hurt! S-so much! A-and there w-was bluh-blood and… and I couldn't see or m-move or breathe… and I w-was sc-scared!" He hadn't wanted his sister to seem him cry, but as he sat slowly on the ground, hugging his knees to his body, he figured it was too late. A wet sob tore at his throat. "It wouldn't stop…"

"What happened?"

The answer he could supply though hiccups was one name. "Pitch."

He was sure she didn't know who Pitch was, but thankfully she didn't ask that. "He hurt you?" He shook his head.

"H-he tried tuh-to h-hurt the oth-thers. B-bunny!"

Twice now, he'd said his friend's name. Now, though, it was accompanied by a few wrenching sobs and even more fat tears. "I s-saved Buh-Bunny."

"You have a habit, it seems, of saving people." Through the tears, Jack managed to laugh. "But you got hurt?"

"I- I don't remember." And the truth was, he didn't. He only remembered the onslaught of sharp, black sand. His friends, North and Tooth had been stuck in its line of attack and then Bunny, boomerangs flying, had jumped over to them. That was like Bunny, always jumping. North had been pushed to the side. And Tooth, he can remember her being thrown out of harm's way. But Bunny hadn't had time to get out himself. He remembered the rabbit, so willing once more to accept fate. He remembered watching from above as he'd crouched down, ears flat and paws protecting his head. Somehow he'd dived, at some point he'd defied gravity and dove faster than he thought possible. And then his hands… he could remember his own hands. Connecting with the bristling fur on the Aussie's back. And then…

"I just remember waking up." His legs tucked themselves closer. "It hurt… so much. I just… don't… wanna…" his voice once more dropped off and he sniffed. "I remember wanting to die. Just wanting someone to stop it all and let me die. And then I felt bad… because that's selfish. But… I don't know." His sleeve was wet and the tears hadn't frozen; a new experience.

* * *

"You're an idiot, ya know that?" Bunny circled the sheet as he would an enemy, his gaze hard and mean. "A real drongo." The Body didn't answer, just lying beneath white layers.

"You jus' had to go do that. Go an… an be the big hero! Well, now look where it's gotchya? Huh!? Lyin' on a table, that's where. Alone. An' dead."

The Body didn't do anything but lie there. A wind ruffled and teased the white sheet, giving Bunny a glance at one of the grey hands that drooped over the side and felt his chest constrict. He swallowed it down instead.

"I hate you. D'ya know that? That I hate ya? Well… I do."

There was a long moment of silence. Not even the yeti's moved anymore. Somewhere off in the workshop his sensitive ears picked up the sound of Tooth's quiet sobs… but that was all. Nothing else stirred or moved.

Quiet…

Silent as death.

He hopped forward towards the table, the white sheet brightening under the glow of light. His paw hesitated for a moment before grabbing a corner and easing it forward. The sheet peeled back, and he folded t over the Bodies legs. The closed eyes focused on a spot on the ceiling. The grey lips parted in an eternal last breath. Aster noticed that the fist was still clenched. His paw wavered over the curled fingers, as if to try and touch them once more, as he did when the boy had screamed and screamed and…

He pulled away quickly.

Some part of him wished he had left the sheet on.

It was too late now.

The Body was broken and battered. Silent on the wooden slab, it resembled that of a ghost awaiting to rise from its grave. And for a moment, he almost expected those baby blue's to open once more and greet him with as much happiness as they always had. But they didn't. They wouldn't. Not ever again.

"… I hate you…" This time, it came out as a whisper. But he still meant it. _Really_…

Finally he just couldn't look anymore. Hopping around the table he faced the window instead, leaning against the pane. But the moon did little to comfort him. The reason he hadn't been there at Jack's last moment.

Maybe, if he hadn't been asking the moon, Jack would still be alive. If he'd been there. But he hadn't been there. He'd been begging the moon for something it wouldn't give.

"I was supposed to be the one." He told it to the moon this time, who looked down sadly upon the white landscape. "I told 'im. An' you knew tha'. I was supposed to be the jumper. I was supposed ta' jump. An he… he…"

His fist slammed against the wall and the pain rocketed through his fist. Spinning on his heel he turned toward the Body, anger fresh and fueled. "I HATE YOU!" Bunny's voice echoed through the room. "I HATE YOU SO MUCH! WHY ARE YOU… WHY WOULDN'T YOU…? I WAS S'POSSED TA JUMP! THAT WAS ALL ME!"

The Body did nothing.

"Dammit, Jack! Why are ya such an id'jiot!? Why do you have ta' be the hero!? If ya'd just stayed there like I said…!" He wouldn't be here. He wouldn't be dead. Bunny would be dead. Not Jack.

Not Jack. Not the baby of the family. Not the child. Not the child that they loved and cared for and protected. That they had to protect. That he'd…

That he'd promised…

"I promised ya'… I promised ya' I'd protect ya'… An' you make me out ta' be a bloody liar. I was s'posed ta pr'tect ya. An' I couldn' do tha'." His chest was growing tighter, his eyes blurring.

Anger. That's all it was.

Just anger…

"This is all yer faul'. All yers…"

He leaned back, something akin to exhaustion taking over. Drowning him in its cruel grasp, and he allowed it to take him. Leaning against the hard wall, he slid down until he no longer had to support himself. And the body, the white sheet draped over it's feet, stained in blood, burned pictures into his mind.

* * *

"I know…" Pippa was careful as she chose her words. "I know that you're scared. I'm not asking you to not be. All I'm asking is that you let go."

"But you-"

"I'm gone, Jack. You protected me from everything. You were the best big brother ever." He smiled down at the ground, listening to the smile in her voice. "But you have to let me go. I'm not your responsibility anymore. You finished your job. It's time… time to let someone else protect you."

"I could stay here with you."

"You could."

Silence.

A breeze brushed past him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"What would happen to them?"

"I don't know the future, Jack."

"What do you know, then?"

She was quiet, thinking. "I know that you'll be missed. And I know that other people are just as scared as you right now."

Jack curled in tighter, tears trembling in the corners of his eyes. Fear clutched at him and refused to loosen its vice-like grip.

"You know," Pippa took a step forward, "_bravery_ doesn't mean _defeating fear_, Jack. It just means knowing what you're _afraid o_f and facing it anyway. Sometimes we have to face things, even when they're scary or painful or lonely. Like… like hopping across thin ice if it means saving your little sister. You don't need to defeat fear, ever. Fear cannot be beaten, and you learn that very early on. But we can't let it stop us."

"You don't get it!" Jack was on his feet in a second, advancing to the edge of the hopscotch court. "I was… _terrified_! I was… there was pain and I thought… I died. Pippa! I died! Pain and fear and… and… there was… I couldn't… augh!" He grabbed a lone rock and hurled it at the surface. Ripples flowed from the center point until the water resembled a dartboard.

"Why am I here anyway?" he continued. "Why am I not just dead?! Why am I here?!" he turned on his sister, fear merging with anger. Anger for everything. Anger at himself and North and Bunny and Tooth and Sandy and Pippa and… "Why. Am. I. _HERE_?!"

"Because one very special rabbit promised to protect someone he loves very much."

Jack's anger dissipated and his eyes locked on hers. "Bunny? But… he… but…"

"He's a good older brother too. Just like you were."

Whatever words he had died on his tongue. Instead, the only word he could find slipped out, "How?"

She shrugged. "I only know what you know, and what he was asking." Her lip quirked. "He's all that's holding you here, actually. A lifeline… I think that's what some people call it. And really, there is no other word. A special connection. Usually it's between spouses or parents with their kids. Something like that. This particular connection," her hands moved animatedly, searching for an explanation. "It's… it's a connection. Through a promise. At least with him. A promise to protect you."

"He said that… when I was afraid." Jack reeled back when Pippa laughed. "What?!"

"Sorry. Sorry, Jack. It's just," she shook her head. "You seem to believe that he made the promise just to calm you down!"

"Didn't he?"

"Of course not! You wouldn't be here if that was the case!" She shook her head again and a few loose strands of hair fell away and in front of her face. "He only just told you. But Jack, he made that promise a while ago! He just realized it might be something you'd need to know. Yunno… in case…"

"He did."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"The same reason you made the promise to me! And I don't believe you made it that day on the ice, right?"

He shook his head. "I think I made it when you were born."

"Or, in other words, the day you realized you were responsible for someone else's life."

"Bunny is not responsible for me." He said out of shock, not spite. Pure astonishment.

"Apparently he thinks otherwise."

"Why?"

"Because that's what older brothers do."

* * *

He'd lost track of how long he had been staring, and he couldn't stop. He pressed his back hard against the wall, feeling the stone grind against his spine, but the pain did little to ground him. This was all wrong. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He had sworn it would never happen this way - made a promise to an annoying git who had somehow become a kit brother to him.

"You got the roles mixed up," he mumbled, eyes roaming over the Body and the stained sheet. "I told you I was the jumper, but you didn't listen."

He got no response. "Idiot," he whispered. It was meant to be an insult to the boy - something that provoke a response, and action, a challenge. _Anything_ but the silence and the stillness and that damned. White. Sheet. Bunny wanted to rip that thing off the table. He didn't dare, but he kept staring - scowling, rather - to try to _make_ him move.

"I'm s'pose' ta jump fer you, and yer supposed ta care for me after. That's... th-that's how it works, you b-bloody..." He stopped. His paw rubbed over his eyes, trying to rid it of the damn blur that refused to leave. Drawing the appendage away he stared at the red stains on the dark fur. Paw pads, roughened up matted patches, still coated in the blood of a frost child.

His nose twitched constantly, and he didn't know if it was his weakening barricade of emotions, or the hauntingly familiar smell of death that hung in the air.

But it was more than the smells of death. It was everything else. The smell of the copper. The smell of cold meeting warmth, sweat, tears.

He could still _hear_ the tears. Hear the screams as Frost had begged and pleaded and _screamed_. He could hear North's voice as he'd yelled orders to people who had either come quickly or never come at all. He could hear as Tooth chirped and buzzed and sobbed. He could hear Sandy as he'd come far too late… winding through passages of wind that brought him to the room, wind that was scared for it's master.

He could still hear himself. Still hear his voice, desperate and afraid and still so… hopeful. Every bit of love laced through words that held any hope he had. All of it for the boy.

"_I promise, I __promise__ you. Right now, I'm not gonna let __anythin'__ happen to'ya._ _Yer gonna be... gonna be fine. Because I promise ya', I __swear__, I won't let anythin' happen. I'm gonna stay right 'ere. And I will always, always, protect you…"_

His face was back into the blood stained paws as the words ran through the room, flitting in and out of extending shadows. He'd promised it and he'd meant it. He would have done anything to keep the boy there, because without him…

"_How did we live without him?"_

Tooth had asked him that question just weeks before. And he'd scoffed, because he'd been so sure that they would never have to live without him. Didn't want to think about living without him. But now they had to. And Bunny was very quickly realizing the answer to that question.

_How did we live without him?_

They wouldn't…

Slowly, carefully, Bunny rose to his feet.

_**Jack… Jack, ya gotta listen ta me. Breathe. Ya gotta breathe, akay? Fer me, ya gotta breathe.**_

Moving out from the moonlight, he walked over to the table where the Body lay, cold and alone on the slab. The blood glinting and winking.

_**Yer my family. An family doesn't just pack up and leave**_

The fist was still curled in pain, though the face showed none of it. His paw quivered, his breath still in his throat.

_**Don't you dare!**_

And then, as he had that night, he allowed his paw to cover the hand. The hand he'd held as Jack stared right at him. The hand he'd held as he told Jack to please not leave. To please stay with them. To breathe and to live and to look at him for just one more moment.

_**You can't leave. Because... we... we...Because I love ya. We love ya. So much… An' that should be enough… please tell me it's enough…**_

The same hand he'd held as Jack looked at him and said the one thing to make his heart break. The one thing that he'd been the only one to hear, and wished he could forget, but knew he never would.

_**"I... d-don't wanna d-die..."**_

And he'd been the one to allow himself to promise otherwise.

_**"You ain't gonna... I won't let... Yer gonna be... g-gonna be fine."**_

His paw tightened around the fist as his knees began to fail him. Leaning against the table he brushed the white hair back, smoothing out bangs and mussing silver strands.

"I'm sorry, Frostbite…" His breath shuddered, shaking and shivering through him. "I'm so sorry…"

* * *

Both once more stood, stewing in words. Jack's eyes finally drifted down to the ten squares just inches from his toes.

"What if I can't get back? What if I get lost?"

"That's always a possibility." She sighed sadly, her smile just as morbid, "I'm not going to lie. People do get lost. They die before they can get back and after that… we're never quite sure where they go."

Jack shifted. "I don't want to let him down." Once more his thoughts were off himself and to the ones he least wanted to disappoint. Like when he'd died, he'd been angrier at himself. Angry that she'd had to see him drown. And if Aster, too, had to suffer that fate.

"I honestly don't think you ever could. Disappoint him, maybe. But never let him down. He loves you too much for that." He was going to protest it, but found that he wished it too true for any words to go against the statement.

Pippa knelt down, scooping up a small, flat rock from the ground. "This… Bunny of yours. I don't think he knows how to play our game. So I suppose he won't ask. Why don't we play it for him?" The rock was dropped into his palm. Jack's fingers curling around his smooth surface. His hand shook and his heart even more so. He looked at the lake again, looked at the sun glinting off the water.

"Where's the moon?" It was the only thing he could think of. Everything else was gone.

"Manny, you mean?" He wasn't sure how she knew, so he just nodded. "He was the one to bring you back the first time."

"Yeah. I don't know how, though. But I guess it doesn't matter."

"Well… he wasn't needed this time." She looked up, squinting through the glare. "Not anymore, at least. Not here." Eyes were back on him. "There are some things that are… more powerful than even the man in the moon. It's what's keeping you here and what's letting you return."

Jack's eyes widened. That sort of power was unheard of, dangerous even. "What is it?"

Pippa's smile was a knowing one, not secretive. Just knowing. "I'm going to have to let you figure that out for yourself."

Jack stared at the rock. Smooth. Flat. Ideal for throwing. "Were you really happy?" he didn't look up when he said it, just stroked the rock with his thumb.

"Yes. I missed you. But I was happy."

Another beat.

"If I stayed with you…" He took the rock, weighing it on his palm before continuing. "If I stayed here with you… would you be happy too?"

She hesitated for a moment, not sure how to answer. Carefully, she allowed the words to come, honest and true. "Jack… it's been a very long time since we've last seen each other. And I've missed you… ever since you fell I've missed you. And if you stayed…" she breathed deeply. "I would... be... happy..."

He smiled. "I would be happy too." A swallow. "I'd be with my family again."

"You would."

"I'd be with you… forever."

"… Yes…"

He looked at the ten square, the rock heavy in his palm. "In that world… I was lonely and scared for so long. And I left the same way. Scared… lonely. And if I did go back… I don't know. I could be alone… maybe…" The rock was burning. "I wouldn't have forever there. I'm not immortal. Just… I wouldn't have forever there. But with you… I'd have forever with you."

"You would." Pippa nodded. "Forever. With _just_ me."

"You're not a _just_. You're my family."

"I am."

"And family… means everything."

"They do." She nodded, smiling. "Mother always did say that family came first."

"I remember that." He did. "Family is who you do anything for… even if it means that you give up something. He stared at the court. "Even if it means you give up what you know would make you happy. Or… give up a path." Jack took a deep breath. His chest hurt. "Sometimes, for family, you have to look at the door that opened for you… the opportunity… and you have to close it. And when you close it… it locks. Forever."

There was more silence, and it was beginning to hurt.

"Either way," he started again, "I have to give up a path. I have to shut a door and I have to lock it."

"Which door, though." His sisters' voice broke him out of the thoughts that plagued him. "Don't think about what door is more important. Just… what door you have to choose." She backed up a step. "It's up to you. And I cannot have a say. But please… choose what you know is right."

Jack stared longer and longer at the ten square. The square that would once more rip him from his sister. Would take him from someone he loved.

The square that would return him to the unconditional love of his family. The group dinners and the warm rooms.

But his sister… He's beloved sister.

"I love you…" Jack stared at the square, feeling his eyes sting, as he opened his fist and allowed the stone to drop. "I love you… but I'm sorry."

And the stone clattered to the ground.

A choice had been made.

* * *

**Update to come soon! I swear! Sorry to leave you at another cliffhanger! I seriously had to debate whether or not to leave you here. But... in the end... ugh... I just had to. It was too tempting. But the good news is that I'll be updating soon!**

**So tell me, readers. What did Jack decide?  
**

**Real quick. Should I update THIS story next update? Or do another different one shot. Up to you!  
**

**You guys are awesome!  
**

**Ciao!  
**

**~Gal  
**


	13. Goodbye Hello: Jack's Death Part 3

**HOLY CRAP GUYS THIS IS A LONG ONE! More than 10,000 freaking words! Wow! So... get comfy. Grab a cup'a! Find yourself a nice blanket! Cuz this is PACKED with everything you guys asked for. PACKED!**

**Sorry this took me so long. I got (gasp) the FLU! And for days I've been bedridden. Now I'm kinda up again, and I'll be fine by tomorrow. Sore throat, some problems sleeping. But hey, at least I'm able to write. So... I'm good.**

**Okay. This is what I got after days of cough drops, NyQuil, and Trader Joe's peppermint lane tea (that stuff is my god...) and sleeping and sleeping and sleeping. Lots of everything you wanted. I wasn't actually going to show _what_ happened on the battle field, but that was one of the most frequently requested things. So... the customer is always right! And you got just that.**

**Ok. One more thing. You guys are seriously going to _hate_ me after this chapter. You really will. WHY? you might ask. Well. I shall tell you. This chapter ends in... DUH DUH DUH**

**ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER!**

**How in the gods' names I managed that, I'll never know. But I did. And it's here. And it's about to piss a lot of people off XD**

**Especially since I'm _debating_ wether or not to make the next chapter a continuation or interrupt it with something funny! A little light humor to cheer you all up!**

**Once more, grab your tissues and pitchforks! Start your mobs and grab your book clubs! You are in for a sicky flu-y treat! Hoo-ray!**

**Thanks so much to my amazing beta, mjbaerman! She has helped me so much! And the next chapter we figured out together, with her extensive knowledge of surgical stuffs and my story line, we are creating an awesome, awesome chapter! So I've got to look through all the facts she sent me and find a way to write them in! She's been amazing!**

**Thanks mjbaerman!  
**

**And thanks to every single one of my followers, reviewers and anyone who favorited this story! You all keep this going!  
**

* * *

o0o_  
_

_Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time._

~Thomas A. Edison

o0o

* * *

"_Pitch!" North's frantic call only made the Dark Spirit cackle, "You must give up! You have no chance!"_

"_It would seem like that, wouldn't it?" Pitch's movements were silky as he dodged a boomerang, chuckling at the attempt, "But you'd be wrong on that account. Fear, you see, has a nasty habit of sticking around."_

_Bunny watched, helpless as a NightMare lunged for North, but thankfully the man, even in his age, had the reflexes of a person twenty years his minor. The black sand merely brushed his coat, leaving a trail of iridescent, black sparkles against the red fabric. Jack in the sky went for that particular creature, just barely catching it in an icy blast. The Mare fell from the sky, shattering on the brown grass below._

_They were somewhere in North America, closer to Canada. The chill in the air was sharp and cut through Bunny's fur. And Jack's attacks from above didn't help to stifle the cold. He ground his teeth, throwing yet another boomerang and hoping that it hit something. It did, and the black stallion smashed, showering the land in its dust. _

_North, still battling with Pitch, wasn't having as much luck. What they had believed to be a near win was far from it. Something was going to come. The tall man had been far too reserved for their liking, leaving much of the fighting to night's creatures, slinking into shadows whenever he had the chance. They'd known him to act upon cowardice before, but this was… unnerving. Like he was simply allowing something to build, waiting for the moment to unleash all Hell upon them._

_His demonic laughter filled the flat, dew covered plain on all sides, filling their heads. Tooth shook her own, feathers twitching, as she directed fairies this way and that. The small helpers, under her watchful eye, avoided many of the literal ribcages they'd been stuck in before, mimicking their creators movements in slicing through the inky bodies. _

_They appeared to be winning. In fact, the other three who were fairly optimistic about their current situation. But Bunny knew… something was wrong. _

"_North!" They could barely hear the lilted voice over the storm. "North, we gotta back up now!" If they could just take a step backwards, then they could assess their situation. But he was only met with North's booming laugh, followed by Jack's mirthful one._

"_Vhat ees matter, Bunny! We win dis!"_

"_Scared, Cottontail?" How the boy could make jokes at a time like this never failed to amaze the sterner companion. He was about to shoot back a response to the pair, tell them to get their heads on strait and at least Tooth had some sense to be wary…_

_Then he saw it._

_He was naturally adept at hearing and seeing and sensing. It was who he was, a rabbit. And rabbits were known for their superior senses. If not, they'd have gone extinct years back. Even at his position, in no real place to become extinct or demoted to prey, his hearing, seeing, smelling… it was all perfected and sharp. And when he saw the shadow just slivering out of a small clump of grass, he knew his eyes hadn't been playing tricks._

_The gossamer existence flowing along blades, just barely disturbing them. Making sure to stay out of the line of battle, going _around_ by means of a sneak attack. And as the fragments of barely visible sand launched themselves into the air, he could see it was going to be an aerial. _

"_North!"_

_But his cry was lost to the wind. _

_Tooth had joined North now, a particularly large NightMare circling the two. The Russian's swords were drawn and ready, Tooth's feathers flaring, wings ready to be used if need be. It was oonly obvious to him what was happening. The King of Nightmares, controller of all these creatures, had relayed a message. _Keep them in their place_. The particular dark entity was doing its job, preparing unsuspecting targets. _

_And only Bunnymund knew it. _

_He placed his boomerangs back in place, they'd do him no good. Not with what he was going to be doing. His eyes stayed on the sky, watching the grains form into… a shape. A larger silhouette of the man himself, thin, tall, spindly. And then it began to thicken. _

_Unbeknownst to the danger, Jack, still battling in the sky, back to the dark sand, looked ready to go down to the aid of North and Tooth, body arching in a swan dive._

"_Jack! Ja-a-ack!" The boy looked at him, questioningly. "You stay there! You here me?"_

"_What are you-" _

"_JUST STAY THERE!" There was no way he was going to take chances. He was going to try to get them all out, but the less, the better._

_And then the cloud began to truly condense, and Bunny began to run. All the while, as he sprinted at speeds he never thought he could read, the cloud began to match his speed down to the couple. The small grains of sand collecting into a mass of… something. Looking to be almost an inverted beehive, strange hexagons punched together in an unforgiving palette, the tips dagger sharp and needle thin. These weren't meant to attack. Whatever was coming was meant to __**kill. **__And he wouldn't let it get that far._

"_Tooth!" The small fairy looked at him, and catching his quickly moving body, looked up to where his green irises were checking. Her mouth opened in what he assumed was a scream, but no sound was heard. She tugged at North's collar, but he didn't budge. The movement was consistent and finally he broke his gaze with the current predicament to stare where Tooth's quivering finger pointed._

_His swords dropped to the ground. _

_There was no running, not a chance of moving fast enough. He wouldn't have the headstart they needed, nor would Tooth have the will to leave him behind._

_Good thing Bunny was there._

_Reaching them quickly, he pulled himself to his full height, screaming explitives and direction to the pair. Grabbing North's heavy coat he pushed the man out of the way, and Tooth was thrown in the same direction. Both set stumbling a good few paces off, away from the line of attack. Tooth shouted something to him, her mouth moving quickly. And North looked ready to run back. But he knew it wouldn't do any good._

_The cloud was upon him. _

_He didn't even look up. He just accepted what was to come. Instinct played some role as he bent over and protected his head, thought against the spikes it wasn't really something he could protect. His thoughts went somewhere else. Had he said goodbye to his egglets that day? Did they know how to run the Warren? Would Sophie even notice he was gone? Would the Yeti's paint the eggs for him? Would he die? Was he ready to die? Would they miss him?_

_He hunched closer to the ground, tucking his body as tightly as he could until he was sure he was a ball. The harsh reality of death not yet cobining with fear. He was not afraid, for some reason. More… sad. It was a calm sort of sad. The kind you feel before you realize that you might never experience something again. A smile. A laugh. A friendly punch to the arm. A fight you could have had, a thing you should have said, a person you should have told… something… to. A sad sort of feeling where you realize that you would miss so much. And you wished dearly that it didn't have to end._

_And then that tiny glimmer of his center showed through. Staying strong, the reason he was chosen in the first place, hope charged through. Everyone would be okay because of him. And they'd remember him always. _

_A happy shiver went up his spine. _

_No… a real shiver. _

_An honest to god, it's cold outside, I forgot my coat, shiver._

_The cold turned sharp, shards breaking through his fur and skin, crawling up his back, cutting through his skin. His eyes popped, but he could only see darkness. And then… he was flying. Flying forward and hitting dry, cold grass, tumbling and bending, his ears enduring abuse they should have never been succumbed to. The frost beginning to melt of his back, and his mind even more frosted and fogged. What had happened?_

_His eyes opened once more, facing the brown and brittle grass. Mouth opening enough to let out a few puffs of clouded air. What had happened? How did he get there? _

_The call from North was enough, the sound of the mans heavy footfalls by his body, thundering through the cold earth. And that numbing, shattering, chilling name screamed from frantic and fearful voices._

"_Jack!"_

_And turning around he could only watch as the penetrating surface of horror, meant only a few mere seconds ago for him, fall upon Jack Frost. _

_And those last few milliseconds. That was what somehow broke him most. Lying, sprawled upon the brown earth, the shadow descending and multiplying, staff a few good feet away, Jack feebly lifted his pale face to stare…_

…_. At __**him**__._

_And he swore that his damned mouth quirked into a shaky, yet obvious smile. And those eyes looked at him, gleaming. Something, he'd never know what, transferred between them. And he understood the message loud and clear._

**_Now we're even. I'm sorry._**

_His own voice wasn't fast enough to protest. The cloud was faster. And with that, Jack Frost was out of sight._

_They wouldn't see him again for another fifteen seconds. _

_But those fifteen were enough. Enough to damage him… enough to hurt him… enough to kill-_

* * *

"Ugh!"

Aster awoke from his… well, he couldn't quite call it a daydream. Blinking, he looked down to see he was still holding the boys cold hand. He tore his paw away, stumbling backwards, panting. Chest heaving, searching for something to grab onto, finally just collapsing back onto the floor and scuttling towards the wall. Finally situated he sat, gasping. His chest hurt, tight and pumping.

E. Aster Bunnymund was somewhat aware that he should have left. It was getting harder and harder to look at the Body on the table in front of him. To look at Jack on the table in front of him. He'd been there for over an hour, simply holding the boy's hand and stroking back his hair. He was just aware, now sitting on the floor, that his legs were beginning to cramp from all the standing still, but he hardly felt it. Why should he?

The blood everywhere had long dried. The floors looked more dirty than anything else, only small tinges of red remaining. The scarlet on Jack's skin, highlighting a massive scar and deep-set bruises, wasn't as prominent. Not when he had been white as paper. Now he'd turned a sickly sort of grey, his lips turning different shades of blue. And the ruby splotches were now a deep copper, matching the smell in the room.

Bunny took a deep, shuddering breath. Tooth had long stopped crying, and North hadn't screamed once in at least forty-five minutes. He was sure even Sandy had allowed time to lose himself in all ways.

But he hadn't.

For some reason, E. Aster Bunnymund could not cry.

He hadn't cried in a long time, not since the fall of his clan. And even then, it hadn't been much. He was supposed to be the strong one, the one people fell back on in times of need. And now he felt totally worthless as that position went to no one at all. And yet, even as all the others crippled around him, he did not.

He sat there, numb to the world. No tears, no screams, no pleading for anything. His feet were too firmly planted for that. He could recognize what the situation was, and what it was was not a good one. What it was was permanence that could not be reversed. He knew it was death, and he knew he had no place to try and defeat it. He was too realistic to give himself any more hope.

And yet, without even hope – what he was made to Guard – left in him… he still

didn't cry.

Instead, he simply stood there, numb, wishing that he could cry. Wishing that he had the strength to let go and give in like everyone else. All the years of firm training were forbidding his body to do so, and he hated it.

He hated not crying.

He hated sitting here, not being able to do anything.

He hated feeling hopeless.

Shakily, he stood once more. His legs wobbled and his feet ached. Even so, he forced himself to take those few steps across the floor. It was silent, and now the low _tch tch_ of his bare paws sliding and shuffling against the dirty, stained floors, sounded like a funeral march. But he marched on. Marched until he found himself once more at that table, in front of that Body, and still unable to shed a single bloody tear.

"I _told_ you to stay." He mumbled it to no one in particular, since there truly was no one to listen anymore. "I _told_ ya."

Of course, it was too late for that.

"I'm not grateful, ya know." Silence. "I didn' wan' ya ta jump. An' I'd rather I'd died then ya. 'twasn' fair ta me. Ta them. This was all yer faul'… yer… faul…" More silence, echoing louder than any drum. "Bloody wanker." He sniffed, but still did not cry.

He still wanted to cry though. He wanted some way to physically show he mourned, because if there was one thing on earth Bunny was bad at, and he was good at an awful lot of things thank you very much, it was expressing emotions. He'd never really let his guard down, and was hating himself for that more and more every second.

Because right now he wanted to show Jack, in any way, what he meant. God knows he even understood what he meant.

He was sorry, maybe.

He missed him, perhaps.

He loved him with every fiber of his being, and would be stuck mourning until the end of time. Possibly.

He wanted his boy back. He wanted his brother back.

He wanted _Jack_ back.

Definitely.

As if trying to tell all of that to Jack himself, he lightly squeezed the boy's hand once more, the fingers bending under his will.

It felt odd. He was used to the cold. Somehow, he was actually _used _to the cold, adjusting to its low temperatures. And in that way, he'd gotten used to Jack. It hadn't bothered him as much, the snow and ice the teen brought round with him. He complained, of course, but those quips had become more for show and affection then actual problems he'd had.

But this cold… it wasn't one he liked.

It was gone cold. Empty cold. _True_ cold. Up until now he hadn't known a difference.

Swallowing hard, he placed more pressure onto the hand, in a feeble attempt to warm it and give some life where none remained. The fingers bent farther, pressing against the palm.

Jack had always hated people touching him, he almost chuckled. He'd always had an aversion, until very recently, to touching. And after a while the boy had almost relished in it all. The hugs, the playful punches.

But this one fist always was clasped around that solid piece of lightweight wood. If it hadn't been for the paw, it would look alone without the staff. It was how he coped with things. His security blanket. Whenever he'd gotten angry, upset, scared, he'd grabbed onto the shepherds staff until his knuckles turned white.

He'd always needed that comfort.

So it came as a great surprise when, as if reading his thoughts, Jack's hand _clenched_, then _relaxed_ and then made an attempt to _grab his hand._

It was all very subtle, and he almost didn't notice it at first. But when he did, really _noticed it_.

Bunny's eyes shot open and his hand left that of the winter sprite's. It lay there innocently enough. But even so… he could have sworn that the hand he'd been holding had been… alive.

Not even thinking he called out the others names, bending low to stare at the pale skin, willing it to move.

"Bunny?"

"North!" He looked at the bloodshot eyes of the towering Russian, just come into the room. "North, he moved!"

"Bunny-"

"Naw!" He disregarded the heavy words with a wave, "Naw mate, I swear! I swear 'e did! I felt it! His hand! He moved 'is 'and!"

"Bunny, sweetie," Tooth peeked over the man's shoulder, her own eyes shrouded with circles, "I think it's time to-"

"It ain't time for anythin', Tooth, I know what I saw. And I saw Jack move. North, ya gotta believe me."

"My belly does not say-"

"F'rget yer blasted belly! I know I felt 'im move!"

North opened his mouth to fight, his eyes looking down at Frost. "Yoo… took de sheet 'way?"

"Yes I bloody well did!"

North's head shook for a moment. And then he finally made a slow grab for the sheet. "We cover, yes. Den yoo… yoo go ta sleep, da? Elf's get you somt'ing to drink… _strong_, maybe."

"No! I don't need- wha' are ya doin'!" Bunny shoved North's hands away, forcing the damned sheet away from Jack's body. "Don't ya _dare_ cover 'im up!"

"Bunny!"

"Ya can't do it, North! Don't hide 'im! Wha' if I'm right! I know I'm right!"

"Yoo are no'… and I never said-"

"I won't let ya cover 'im with… with… tha!" His fist went down onto the table, shaking the structure.

And as if to answer the plea from every ounce of earth around him, every unspoken wish and left behind prayer, Jack Frost opened his mouth, and coughed.

* * *

Jack's cerulean orbs opened, a breath drawn in so deeply, it was as if it was the first breath ever taken by man himself. Ribs aching in protest as beaten and battered lungs inflated, rushed stitches straining as his chest expanded heavily before falling into a messy fit of coughs that quickly subsided. Torso aching in protest, a loud "nyeh" protruding from cracked and blood covered lips.

He remembered faintly what had happened. Words exchanged between him and a loved one.

_"I think…" he took a breath before returning his gaze upward, "I think I want to go home now."_

_"I think that's a wonderful idea."_

_Pause. "I love you."_

_"I love you too, Jack." Her hands touched his, wrapping his fingers around the stone. "Always." They lingered there for a moment, in the happy silence_

He remembered being able to finally reach over the line and hold her hand, one last and final time. Feeling their skin touch in a mournful goodbye. The smile that stayed firm on her face but the tears that revealed much more, glistening in her eyes.

_"Before you throw, I have to let you know that I'm giving you away."_

_"What?"_

_"I'm giving you away. To a new family." She smiled warmly, memories danced across her face. "They deserve someone like you. Someone as amazing as you. So look after them, won't you?"_

_"I will."_

And then, a gaze so loving and true, falling on him. The need to hold the person one last time was immense. The need to tell her everything that time would not allow. He'd kept his mouth shut though, because it seemed like she was going to do all the talking. Leaning her head back, she'd stared at the sky once more. Looking towards voices and people he could not hear or sense. Another smile, her teeth flashed. Then she was looking at him again and her fingers laced through his.

_"Can you deliver a message for me." He nodded, just slightly. "Tell Bunny that it's his turn, won't you? I don't think he'll take you unless I willingly throw you into his path." Her grin widened. "I think he's a good choice for you. To take my place." The woman sighed. "I never got to take care of you, you know. That was always your job. So… now I'm letting you take mine. And he can… I don't know. He can take yours." Her teeth flashed as she laughed lightly. "You deserve to have an older brother. Tell him I said that too."_

He remembered trying to smile, but not being able to. Instead, he held onto her hand tighter until she let go for him, backing away.

_"Throw the rock, Jack." Pippa backed away a little more._

He remembered throwing stones onto double-digit numbers, watching as his final choice was planted firmly in an 11 by 11 chalk box.

_"Go home. It's time you had a family again. You deserve to be loved."_

And then he was touching his foot to the squares. And then… and then…

And then arms, like strands on a web, shot out to grab the center. And Jack was pinned against hard mahogany, struggling against no one but himself.

Someone, grabbing his legs, began to bark orders to all who were present. Small hands feathered over his cold, pale fingers, violet eyes flickering to another person, too busy to even look back. Busy creating dolphins, the aquatic mammal snaking round the room, a fine glitter dropping to the floor. Jack's screams quieting to heavy breaths and whimpers. Fingers, what had been clawing so desperately before, flattened against the wooden tabletop, quivering in the effort to stay still, and once every few seconds would slap at the surface lightly.

There was more pressure, more sounds. And as the pain came back, lessened only by sand delivered in careful rations, a long whine escaped his lips.

And immediately, long arms were around him. Fur, matted from stress and sweat and general lack of self-care, brushed along his shoulders, rough pads scratching skin like sandpaper across his brow. And a sound reaching numb ears.

Laughter.

* * *

E. Aster Bunnymund was laughing.

Laughing like never before. Relief blooming thick, knocking heaviness temporarily off of stooping shoulders. Laughing from happiness, relief, thanks towards nobody and everybody all at once. Relief, as a well-played picture of a lonely future and rainy days was rewound and erased. With words. Words like forever and protect. A promise made with blood and every fraction of self kept unbroken.

And he laughed because of it.

North said something about shock, but was too busy otherwise to say anything else. But from the continued laughter, the way the laughter sounded, it didn't seem as if shock was the right word. Something else entirely. Shaky, tremendously happy laughs. Relief and worry and amazement and happiness and sadness and… and… so much more, packed into every ounce of sound.

And then the laughter stopped, arms tightening.

"Thas'a good boy," words choked to the point of muteness, everything spilling out and over. For the very first time, unable to hold anything and everything back. "_Thas'a good boy_!"

Jack hardly heard the words, but felt the arms and leaned into them. Safety. Protection. Stones on hopscotch courts. And other things.

Something wet plinking onto his face in droplets. Settling onto his forehead and into his knotted hair.

And as the pain finally, finally, began to lessen to the point where he could open his eyes and not see a pulse, and he became aware of the who's, what's, where's, he was able to reach out with one pale hand and lightly fist the fur that encircled him.

"D-… on…t… c-cry… k-kan… roo." A cough, eyes unfocused looked drowsily upward, finally catching a glance of his friend's face, fur shimmering. Finally, _finally_, for the first time in his life… crying. Jack was hardly even aware of what he was saying, or what was going on, but aware enough of the thin smile that took effort to display. "I… I play… ed… hops… cotch."

He was met with another breathy laugh.

And then, with his last breath of whole consciousness Jack murmured something.

"P-Pippa's… gone… it… it's y-your turn…"

"Sure, Frostbite…" hardly even knowing what it meant, but glad to hear the boy talking, breathing, _living_. "Sure…"

No one else had seen the exchange. But if they had, they'd have seen Bunny holding Jack, both quivering. One from the strain of living, the return from a place with nothing, thrown back into exertion. The other from the strain of begging the other to live, fear and despair leaving in heavy, shivery breaths. Holding onto another (though Bunny was doing most of the holding), both assuring the other in some way, _yes, I'm here. I'm here because of you._

* * *

It had taken only a minute for them all to _temporarily_ compose themselves. Tooth, being the first to put on the stiff upper lip. "Jack comes first," she told the boys in the room. "And that's all there is to it."

She was right, of course. Tooth was very rarely wrong.

An ice bath was prepared. Fresh snow packed into the sloping bottom of the old, porcelain basin. Water running through the faucet and slipping under and over the freezing mass. Chunks of glacier floating to the top. And then the freezer was raided, every ice cube unceremoniously dumped into the already freezing water.

"A'right," North nodded at their work, checking the temperature with one beefy hand and choking as the skin met with white fire. "Ees cold nuff," scowling, wiping a now red hand onto his pants. "Le's get Jack in."

They'd had to slide his limp body onto a stretcher, trying not to jostle recently set bones and delicate stitches. There were a few whimpers and stiff mews.

"Can't ya put 'im ta sleep?" Bunny asked Sandy from his place supporting the winter spirits head. His paw briefly ghosted over the young man's chest, checking for any bone that may have not been set properly, stitches that weren't right. His professional eye working quickly with what time they had, knowing that they had to at least begin to beat his fever before the day was out.

Sandy shook his head, a double triangle forming above his crown. Something Bunny had seen once or twice on the streets as some sort of a driving sign. Yield.

"Tha' dangerous, huh?"

Sandy's lips pursed, thinking. Then he nodded.

Bunny sucked in a breath, obviously not happy but at least accepting of the answer he'd been given, and the difficulties added to his job. He bent down next to the stretcher, crouching to reach ear level of the boy currently lying on the tarp between two yetis. "We're gonna move ya, akay, mate? So if we jostle ya… sorry. In advance. But we gotta get ya there." There were a few blinks on Jack's end and it was taken as enough of a response to begin slowly walking tow

True to their word, he was jostled. Twice. Groans escaping immediately, no matter how hard they were suppressed. And though Bunny himself had delivered the message, he couldn't help but take a few seconds just to glare at the yetis, who shrunk under his harsh gaze.

North stayed behind, looking over the room with disgust. He ripped the white sheet off the table, the one that had been the pall for the night, and handed it to one of the remaining yetis. "I vant dis burned," he told them, in a voice that left no room for argument. "And after show me the ashes. I want to know it's been destroyed." If that was all he could get rid of, then so be it. But if he hadn't had an entire workshop to run, he would have burned down the rest of the room as well. And he would have watched it go to blazes, taking with it every strand of guilt and bad memory with the embers towards MiM in the sky. The blasted moon could relish in all of it.

But for now, the bloody sheet was enough.

Then he followed Bunny to help _their_ Jack.

Jack didn't seem sure of his reaction as he was lowered into the ice bath. Whether to groan in pain as North and Bunny worked him off of the stretcher -one taking his feet the other his shoulders and back, Tooth holding his head- and slowly placed him into the water, or whoop in joy. Either way, he was left for the most part smiling a small smile, large breaths from the exertion puffing from inflated cheeks.

They were going to leave him be with only supervision, but his body couldn't support itself and he continued to move his legs to prevent slipping, a difficult task seeing as his legs simply wouldn't work, nor would his whole self, which slipped in and out of consciousness every few seconds. And though he'd have been fine lying out, feet keeping him steady, he seemed to want his neck to stay out of the water.

The yetis tried to help, but with their large claws they didn't offer much. And both Tooth and North took turns for a few minutes, but their hands could only last so long in the _painfully_ cold water. So taking on the responsibility himself, despite their want to continue even though Tooth's hands were already bleeding through ice-cracked skin, he told them to simply arrange a room. Do anything they could to be helpful. His paws, though sensitive, were covered in fur. He'd be better suited for the job.

And so he did exactly that. Kneeling next to the tub he slipped easily into the role he had been assigned. Using one arm to keep Jack's shoulders out of the water, he dipped the other into the icy solution, trying his best to suppress a hiss of pain as he did. Using that paw he scooped water out and drizzled it into the boys shoulder and head, using a rag to blot his fever warmed face.

The others seemed to follow Bunny's directions, quickly filling Jack's room with new, thin sheets, opening windows, filling every free space with medicine bottles, solutions and mixing bowls. And every so often they'd send one of the group to leave and fetch another thing, usually North, who knew where everything and anything in his home was. And every time he left he'd stop at the doorway and quietly watch, without revealing his presence, the pair. Bunny and Jack.

And North could only watch with something akin to amazement and jealousy. Jack and Bunny had always been the odd pair out. They either got along or they didn't, though he'd had a sneaky suspicion that it was just because the two were close. But they just… clashed. They were the other's foil, in some ways. Meeting like the positive and negative ends of two batteries.

And yet somehow, in some strange and mysterious way, their relationship never wavered. There was always that certainty deep down that they'd always be there for each other. And many times that certainty never made itself known to anyone but them in times when they truly needed it. And now North got to see it. And what he saw amazed him to no end.

He watched as Bunny, their rock, their firm, no nonsense, I-don't-take-any-bull, Bunny, softened. He watched as Bunny, their warrior and tai chi master, opened up so much when he thought no one was watching. He watched as Bunny, who he'd seen explore every stage of fury and frustration known to man, allowed another person to know, not through tough love or hints or even a few stuttered words, that he truly, totally and completely cared.

He watched as their Bunny, their 6-foot-1 warrior rabbit, doted over the small white haired boy. Every so often stopping what he was doing to check worriedly for a pulse or breathing pattern, and then, with a relieved smile, dip his head down to prod his wet nose against the youngest's temple. This would bring forth a boyish protest through mumbles, which left a smile on the Pooka's face. And though Jack complained, North watched with a silent chuckle, he didn't seem to mind any of it at all. Relaxing under the sound of the muted, quick breathing and rabbit-like snuffling, drug induced eyes lighting up just slightly at the displays of raw affection.

* * *

North did find himself having to check up on the pair often. And finally he gave into every instinct, his belly _screaming_ at him (maybe that was just hunger), and decided to actually enter the room. He motioned to the yeti's, who had been up for hours without rest, and all of them cast him grateful looks. With a few muttered grumbles they left the room. Just the three of them them, the only sound being the rabbits breathing, Jack's wheezing and the light splashing and clinking of the ice bath.

It took a minute to build up the courage to break such a peaceful silence. But he did finally find it, walking father into the room.

"How ees he doing?" North dragged a wooded chair over to the tub, offering a towel to Bunny who accepted it gratefully, wiping his quickly cracking paw off on its warmer surface before plunging it back under the stinging water. The big man watched as more water was splashed lightly over the boy.

"Eh, he's holdin' on. Thas' wha' matters." Another small splash. "Temperature's not goin' nowhere, but that'll change." True to his title there was an enormous amount of hope in his words, more than the rest of them had for sure. But he wasn't the Guardian of Hope for nothing. Bunny gestured toward the side table. "Pass me tha' rag, will ya?" North grabbed the age-softened cloth, passing it to Bunnymund, who dragged it through the water, then proceeded to work at gently removing the blood that had run down and caked onto thin shoulders.

North couldn't help but chuckle when Jack seemed to relax, letting out a strange sort of hum when the cold water hit him. "He seems to be enjoying dis, da?"

"Yeh," Bunny returned North's comment with a throaty chuckle of his own. He dipped the rag under the water before wiping it roughly over Jack's face and forehead. The boy mumbled something incoherent, his brow furrowing indignantly. "Stay still, will ya…" quieter, "bloody show pony…" the words, though meant to reprimand, were not without affection. The rag moved to favor the boy's snowy locks, greasy and matted with blood and dirt from days without touching snow. "Yeh, he likes it good'nuff. The cold's good fer'im."

There was a pregnant pause as Bunny reached for a bar of soap, foaming up the rag before running it through Jack's hair. North could only watch as the white bubbles quickly turned a soft shade of red.

"There ees… so much blood." His eyes dipped to the pink water, only now realizing how vibrant it really was. Bunny didn't say anything, but his back bristled. They fell once again into silence, both watching as the winter spirit took shaky and uneven breaths, his chest rising and falling underneath the floating pellets of ice.

"He loves contact." The statement was strange to say the least and the first to break through their thoughtful quiet.

"Vhat?"

"He loves physical contact." As if to prove it, Bunny dropped the rag on the side of the tub and lightly ran his paw through the boy's hair a few times, white spikes bending under the pads. North watched as Jack, weak and disoriented from surgery, blood loss and fever, leaned into the touch. Yearning for closer contact. And when the hand left to grab the rag again, Jack curled in slightly, as if scared. At least until the rag had begun its work again, scrubbing soap and blood from pale strands.

"I see…" North did see. The point of it, he did not. And Aster seemed to realize that.

"'S jus' a little sad, s'all."

"Vhat ees?"

"Just… that. I dunno. He acts like he needs it so badly. Every time I try ta' wash 'is hair, he does that. An' he gets that happy look," he motioned to the small smile that hardly seemed appropriate on the boy's face, "whenever any 'a us touch 'im. When Tooth was in 'ere, she held his 'and. And he looked… I dunno… it jus' makes a bloke feel guilty."

"Vhy is dat?"

"Because… he's… he's been without it fer so long!" The Guardian of Wonder could only watch as Hope's paw that held the rag clenched into a fist. "Reckon he had a mum at one point who did that. Reckon he had a fam'ly too. Prob'ly a good one, with a home an' hugs an' bedtime stories an'- an'… an' then he's thrown into… this!" Frustrated, he slapped the water before once more soaking the rag and dragging it over the fresh scar, cleaning the stitches and removing collected blood and skin. "Three hundred bloody years. And then he's forced ta' join our little group ta' fight fer us. An' look wha' happens to 'im!" Voice becoming thicker, choking. "Look wha' we get him inta!"

"You know he ees happy, Bunny."

"Oh yeh, he's practic'ly burstin' with it now,"

"You know what I mean." Bunny didn't turn, but North could see his ears at work as they drooped against the back of his head.

"I know… I know… But he's happier than he should be, after how we trea'ed 'im." His ears stiffened, and his hand was stiff again. "Gah!" The sound came quickly and he slapped the side of the tub instead, eliciting a very painful thump that Bunny hardly seemed to recognize as he went back to washing off Jack's primary wound. "Gah! North, I swear… sometime's I wish 'eed never been chosen."

"You don't mean that!"

"Yes I do! I do mean th- oh go' Jack, I'm sorry!" In his frustration the rag had been pressed down far too hard on the delicate scar, bringing forth a thin, exhausted whine from the half-conscious teen. The towel was dropped on this side of the tub, his hands quickly moving to fuss and comfort the teen- stroking back hair and nudging the boy with his muzzle in an attempt to pacify him, snuffling softly into white strands and over the curve of his ear.

After a few seconds North watched, amazed, as Jack did in fact calm down. Falling into the rhythm of the Pooka's breathing and mimicking it as his own. His battered chest began to fall evenly again and Bunny pulled away. He glared at the water for a moment, though there was a smidge of relief in his green eyes, and then went back to picking at the white hair, trying to work out small beads of what looked to be black sand that still stuck. "Sorry, mate…" he continued to mutter, wiping his nose and eyes every few seconds, hoping North didn't notice his fast decline.

He did.

"Bunny…" the man spoke carefully, quietly. "You do know eet was no fault of yours."

There was a beat in which Bunny paused in mid-fuss, his paws leaving the boy and shifting to his sides. North took in the cracking pads, steadily beginning to bleed on their own from too much time in the freezing water, the red marks of frostbite beginning to show.

"If I'd moved in time-"

"You moving was hardly option." The large man stared at the back of the Rabbit's head, Aster refusing to look his way. "First you save me. And den Tooth. If you had not come to us in time-"

"Shut up." Bunny had pressed the heel of his paws to his eyes in some sort of attempt at control. But North was far from done.

"This cannot be ignored! Vhat Jack deed… eet was choice of Jack, not you."

"He almost died for me… he _did die_ for me, North." The Russian could hear the thick swallow. "After… after everything… everythin' I've said and done t'im… he still…" And North swore that he heard something wrench deep inside the rabbit's chest. But before he had time to even think of that, Bunny's hands were off of his eyes and instead back into the tub, a thumb running over the stitches.

"Sutures 'r messy…"

"They are not, and you know eet. I say they are good for the hurry we were een."

"But not perfect… they gotta be perfect. I'll… I'll…" there was a slight sniff, "I'll fix 'em up later."

"Al'ight."

"And he'll have to get back into the bath. For his fever…"

North nodded, though the rabbit couldn't see he was sure, and leaned back in the chair. He simply stared thoughtfully as Bunny, now trembling, continued his work. He'd be going for the solutions soon, smearing them over any open wounds to keep infections from spreading. But for now he continued his process.

"I didn' deserve it."

North's eyes widened at the blunt statement made by his comrade. Bunny's hands still shook, but now his shoulders had joined them.

"Vha' do you-"

"After all I've done to 'im. Ignored 'im fer this long. Fight with 'im all the time. North… I was a bloody wanker… an' he still… still…" one hand now gripped the side of the tub. "He died fer me. Ends up like this, with broken ribs, stitched up like bloody Frankenstein, no knowing how much pain he's in… all because… I just didn' deserve it."

North was out of the chair in an instant, gripping one of Bunny's shoulders in his large hand.

"Now you listen here, E. Aster Bunnymund. I don't know vhat you are going on about, but I wish it should stop now. What Jack did-"

"Wasn' his job," accepting, defeated.

"No. His job ees to be Guardian. Vhat he did was be family. And dat ees whole o'der matter."

Bunny was quiet again as he wiped his arms across his eyes, still refusing to meet the older man's eyes. "He was doing what he needed to do. I understand."

"Well you obviously do not understand very well, den, eef you t'ink dis ees case. Jack understood." North sighed heavily, forcing Bunny to face him. Green eyes stared down at the floor, red rimmed. And for a moment, their 6-foot-1 warrior looked like his former self again. A small, helpless rabbit.

"Jack," North continued, "did not do vhat he needed to. You are right, he was doing his job. But not the one you are t'inking about. You see… Jack… he ees very special. He vas chosen because he not only cares about children, but he… connects with others. More than any of us vill ever be able to know. He does not, how ees eet you say? Touch and go?" North shrugged, finding the phrases ridiculous. "Does not matter. Vhat matters ees that you realize that Jack, he does not waste time on d'ose dat are not deserving of eet. The children, the fairies, us." North thought for a moment, deciding how to continue.

"Bunny, did you know dat Jack had sister?" Bunny shook his head, glancing back at his ward. "Vell, he did. I ask Tooth about it, and she said dat… dat dey were very close. He bonded with her, more den anyone could have ever predicted. And when time came, he died for her as well. What he did for you… he was protecting you, yes?"

"I didn't deserve it."

North's heavy sigh was enough to show his frustration. "Bunny! You must…" he relaxed, trying to keep his patience in check. "As much as you believe dat, apparently Jack t'inks differently." The Guardian of Wonder folded his arms over his chest, giving the rabbit a knowing look. "He was simply protecting the one he had bonded with."

"An annoyin' rabbit who can't leave 'im 'lone."

"A family member he loves very, very much." There was a moment of silence, and when Bunny didn't speak North decided it was as much success as he would get for the night. He backed away, releasing Bunny's shoulder.

"Before I go…" he stared at Bunny once more, thinking hard, "do you remember today? Jack… left… for a moment."

"I'm trying to forget."

"He said something. I don't know vhat eet vas, but I heard him say something. Do you know?"

Bunny nodded. "He said… Pippa's leaving. Yer turn." North's smile was wide.

"Pippa! Dat was his sister you know. Girl always made nice list." North never forgot a child, naughty or nice. "She grew up well, you know."

"I didn't."

"Vell, she did. And… I do t'ink dat, maybe…" The bigger man looked down at Jack, slumped in the tub. Their Jack who had never quite let go of anything because in the end, his past was all he had. Their Jack, who would give up anything for them, even if they never quite deserved it. Their Jack, who battled death… or maybe had help? "He may have let go…" it was said quietly, but without ignorance. Oh yes, North knew. Or at least, he was quickly understanding.

"Beg pardon?"

"Bunnymund, I do believe Jack's been passed on." A wider smile. "And I do believe he's been passed on to you."

Bunny's eyes strayed behind him to look at the small boy in the tub. Tiny and helpless and alone. No. Not alone. Not anymore. He looked back towards North, wiping at his eyes again and trying not to let anything show. "But… but that would mean…"

"That someone, or somet'ing, has allowed you to acquire particular… rights?" He thought for a moment. "Yes. Eet would mean dat. And since eet ees sibling, then role is assigned! Da?"

"But I don't-"

"Eef you say 'I do not deserve' one more time, I shall be making you into new coat!" Bunny's lip went stiff. "You do deserve! More den many o'ders! You were one to keep hope, no? So you deserve! And obviously, someone t'ought you were able to be allowed eet!" North advanced, clapping the rabbit on the shoulder. "Jack, he loves you very much, do not make mistake of dat. He truly does look up to you. And eef any'ting were to happen to you. Well… you remember when yoo got hurt!" He did, and Bunny suppressed a shiver. "You are t'inking too much, Bunny. Dat ees problem. Love, eet cannot be t'ought about, or else eet makes no sense! And love ees many t'ings, but logical, eet ees not."

Bunny looked over at Jack again and sighed. "I just… I can't see 'im like this. I don't like it."

"None of us do."

"And… I dunno… ever since I don't know when… I need to protect 'im. I promised! And I couldn't even do that!" He hugged himself, hands grasping elbows, turning away. "It wasn' fair of me to promise it if I couldn't keep it."

"You did keep it."

"He died."

"He came back."

"Yeh… but if he'd left fer good… what would I do?" Bunny shuddered, trying to erase the memory. But looking down at the bathtub just made it hard to do. "He's like… sometimes I think he's like… yunno?"

"Sorry. Do not know. Elaborate."

Bunny shook his head, ears flopping. "I dunno. I guess I jus' feel like I was r'sponsible for 'im. Like-"

"Like an older brother should be. Or at least very close family, no?" North nodded, "And dat is how you should feel. Because Jack, in some crazy way –d'ough I never understand boy- has given you position. And some o'der crazy force 'parently agrees."

"MiM."

"No. Much more powerful. At least, dat ees vhat books say. Ees not dangerous," he saw Bunny's eyes widen, "but ees something that left very quickly. Ees not all powerful or all knowing. But was somet'ing… nostalgic. Dat ees best way I can describe. Like past Guardian. Or someone who knew Guardian." He shrugged. "Again, hardly matters. Vhat matters is now. And righ' now, Jack ees safe and he ees ours."

"Yeh. He is." He ruffled the boy's hair, his breath moving the strands.

There was blissful silence for a moment. And then-

"Bunny?"

"Wha now, North?!

"Nothing bad! Swear!" He held his hands up in surrender. "I jus' wanted to know… why you do… dat t'ing?"

"What thing?" He looked curiously up at the Spirit of Wonder, brow furrowed.

"The… the nudge nudge t'ing." He did a poor impression, bobbing his bearded head forward, the mop of hair on his face moving as he did. "You hit head with your nose. I am curious, dat ees all."

"Oh… that…" the Pooka chuckled, almost nervously, "It's jus' a way ta' calm the ankle biters down when they're all riled. It's the contact they like. An' the sound."

"Sound?"

"Breathin'. Fer some reas'n, kits like like th' sound'a breathin'."

"Kit…?"

"Lil' rabbits." Bunny shrugged, swiping at the back of Jack's neck, having picked the cloth up again. "The sound make's the lil' bugga's feel safe. Usually the mum does it. But really any pers'n can."

"Ah." North nodded. "Ees animal thing."

"Course! Ya ever seen a 'uman do it? Most human babes are privy ta' heartbeat. So'r pups. But with kits…" He scrubbed at the blood, gently working it away from pale skin. Jack tried to squirm away, hating the feeling even if it was a necessity. "I ain't no human," he nudged at the boy again with the damp, pink nose, and Jack calmed once more. Bunny smirked, "but this'll have ta do."

North hummed, as if trying to decide whether to laugh or coo. Either way he smiled, nodding. "Cute."

"Shad'dup." But even he had a smirk on his face. The smirk dropped briefly, just for a moment. And his brow furrowed low, "I keep… I keep smelling somthin' though… blood…" he looked down at the pink water, staring intensely at the scarlet tendrils that swirled through, dissipating into the mild bubbles. He shook his head, ears flapping. "Just me…"

"Right." North nodded once more, "I'll leave you ta work den?"

"Actually, stick around, mate. I'll be needin' some help movin' him in a tick. We'll put 'im back in the tub in a few hours."

"Alright," the swordsman rolled his sleeves up broad arms, "how do we go 'bout dis?"

* * *

It took some work and a lot of patience, but they finally did get Jack out of the bath. Using a towel as a sort of gurney, they managed to bring him back to his own room. Tooth was there already waiting for them. She'd opened the windows in advance, and snowflakes were gently falling onto the wooden floor. Sandy was already busy mixing together a poultice of sorts in a clay bowl. He offered them a tired wave, but nothing more, going back to mixing.

"There you are!" Tooth looked up from where she was smoothing back the sheets on the bed. "I was wondering where you'd gone to!" Sandy, from beside her, motioned to his wrist impatiently.

"Just washing Jack off." North shuffled back, helping move the towel closer to the bed.

"Frosty's still got a fever, so we'll have ta soak him 'gain later."

"M'kay… but first lets see what else we can do." She grabbed the long side of the towel, moving it out from under Jack as they lowered him to the bed. Tooth put a hand on his forehead, frowning. "Maybe we have a syrup…"

"I do not know…" North muttered, pulling at the linens to straiten out any folds. "Eet would seem that best cure is cold."

"I think he's righ' on tha' one, Toothy."

"Fine. But lets leave him out for a while, I don't want the stitchest to get too wet."

They all agreed. Shuffling around the bed, each found a job to do, setting at it with avid determination. The mixture was added to all of his wounds, everything quickly allowed to set and dry and then re-bandaged. Bones were checked once with careful once overs. Cool rags set on the boys forehead from a bowl filled with crackling snow from the roof.

All of them content as long as they were working towards a common goal.

"Mmmgh…" the small sound from the middle of the room called all their attention towards the source. Jack hummed again, groaning. His heavy lids sluggishly blinked, the azure flashing at them from under flapping lashes. "Wha…s… goin… on?

Bunny was the first to the side, being the closest to the bed anyway, bending down to eyes level. "Hey there, kid. How ya' feelin'?"

"mmngh…" he tried to stretch, wincing. "…hur...ts."

Aster smirked down at him"Yeah. 'S gonna be sore f'ra while."

Jack winced again.

"Hey there, Sweet Tooth!" The Fairy quickly settled next to Aster, petting her small hands through the boys hair. Her voice gave away just how much she wanted to cry, but was holding back with all her might. "You gave us a good scare. You know that?"

His smile, if one could call it that, was a guilty one. "S…ry."

She smiled back, adjusting the rag on his head. "Don't worry. You're alright. And that's what matters."

"She ees right!" North waved at Jack, who looked at him at his place, standing over the end of the bed. "And when you are better, we give beeeeeg party! Jus' for you. How that sound, eh?"

"So…ounds… g-good." He'd always loved a party. And through the pain, a small glimmer of Jack appeared.

Sandy joined in last, simply waving at the boy and clasping his hands happily. He flashed a few signs, but kept them as simple as he could. Though he doubted even Jack could understand them now. But Jack did smile, relieved to see the Dream Giver there, finding comfort in the mans presence.

"OH!" Tooth jumped up, "I need to get more bandages. We're running out!" She flitted towards the door, looking behind her only once to ask, "can you help me, Sandy? I'm going to have a lot to carry, and my helpers aren't strong enough." The golden man nodded happily, always one to lend a hand, and floated out of the room with one quick dash of sand towards Jack.

Bunny chuckled, watching them go, and took off the rag to cool it again. "Tooth's already movin' again."

"When ees she not!?" North grabbed a few bottles. "But she ees always first to recover. Our strong leetle lady. Eh Bunny?" There was no reply. "Bunny?"

Bunny's pink nose was twitching frantically, quivering up and down.

"Bunny…?" North leaned forward curiously, placing the bottles on a bureau. "Vhat are you doeeng?"

"I… I smell (sniff) some (sniff)(sniff) thin', mate. I smell (sniff) it again..." His body revolved, taking in all parts of the room. He could smell the regular things; the deep musk of the mahogany in the walls, the almost nauseatingly sweet mixture from the kitchen, North's strange blend of clove, nutmeg, witch-hazel, wood smoke and vodka. His own smell was even there, somehow making a place in the workshop (his own room was entirely filled with his own scent, which he was grateful for. It was an animal thing- territory by smell). Grass, sun, paint, the pungent scent that all rabbits seemed to carry with them that even he lightly expelled. He sniffed again. Jack's scent should have been there. _Was_ there.

The sharp of cold, the lingering of pondweed, plastic from sleighs, and then the mixture of all of them sticking to his skin (when he'd told them once, that he smelled like them, the others said it was because he spent so much time with them. He believed it to be another territory thing. Jack was _theirs_ after all).

But all those smells, the mixture of everything that was _Jack_…. wasn't… there. Instead it was muffled by another smell. The mild aroma of copper, rust, salt… red.

"I smell… blood." He'd smelled it again. Smelled what he'd smelled in the tub. But the tub then had been _filled_ with dashes of blood. Bunny paused for a moment, looking towards North for some kind of solace.

"I do not smell anyt'ing!"

Of course. The mans nose (as good as any humans) was not even close to being like his own. And North wouldn't be able to smell what he did.

"Well, I do." His nose was back at work, head bobbing up and down over and around Jack. Yes… the strange smell did come from the boy.

"Ee jus' was covered een blood. There would be smell-"

"Naw, mate." Another few sniffs. "This's fresh."

North cocked his head. "I do not _see _any."

"Neitha' do I." And that was what worried him. He took in a few more whiffs. Yes. It was _fresh_ blood. Fresh and flowing. His brow lowered. Something was very wrong.

Aster was down on his knees by the bed in a second, his nose at work. Starting off on Jack's head, he took in the smells from his face, then made his way down, nudging and snuffling the boys neck. Jack tried to wiggle away, half conscious still. But Bunny's paws were on his shoulders, holding him down, as he moved his nose over the teens chest and side. Jack wiggled again.

"T-t-ickle-s…" the boy groaned.

"Hush." Bunny nudged his side some more, wet nose prodding the length of the feverish torso, whiskers trailing down.

"Hurts!" The yelp came suddenly and had Bunny drawing back. The smell was now everywhere, filling every part of his senses."

"Where does it hurt?" jack didn't reply, losing a battle to simply stay awake. "Oi! Jack!"

"Wha-a?"

"Where does it hurt?"

Jack's pale fingers skimmed the are of his ribcage, the right side, and winced as he did.

"Ok." Bunny moved the boys hand and went to hold his shoulders again. Head tilting down once more. He poked his sensitive muzzle against the skin, his sniffs and snorts were static as he drew in the smell, working against Jack's feeble attempts to escape. A little bit more up-

His head shot back, face contracting and a light sneeze rocketed from his form. Right there. On Jack's chest. The smell, like radio waves, emanated thick, permeating the rest of his body with its overpowering aura.

"Bunny?" North once more, getting nervous.

"Hold on." North nodded, watching as Bunny gently placed his ears against Jack's chest. Lightly he tapped the thin boy with his paw. The sound went flat.

"North…" Bunny slowly moved away, nervous. "I think we might'a missed somethin'."

"Vhat do you mean…?" The Russian was attempting calm and quickly failing.

"I mean jus' that. We missed somethin'. Somethin' big." Green, worried eyes looked at North in an expression the man knew all too well. The Pooka had seen tribes fall. He'd seen his people lost to battles. And he'd been there to help. And now… it looked like he was seeing another wounded soldier once more. The look on his face saying that the worst was not yet over. "There's somethin' wrong with 'im…" fists tightening, "an'... an' I know what it is."

* * *

**Cliffhangers are great, aren't they? Yup. This is FAR from over**.** A few more good parts to this arc! But in the meantime I have some great new oneshots to put up! How does that sound!? Great, right? I KNOW! So, tell me what you think. Give me some info you guys. What do you think of this? What do you think is coming next!? What do you think is wrong with Jack? **

**Give me some stuff you guys! I'd love to hear what you think!**

**~Gal**


	14. DMV

**This is a short one, people! But I might have another one by tomorrow. Right now working really hard on the next part of Jack Death arc, so this is something to keep you happy while you wait! Like elevator music. Bad comparison?  
**

**I was so out of practice with writing other characters! Most of my focus is on my favorite power team (Jack and Bunny of course!) that I never get a chance to show Jack with the others, and how I think he'd get along with them. Of course I know that every relationship is different, so I have to imagine how he would act around the different people when the different personalities mix (or, in Bunny's case… clash). So, here's North!**

**This is honestly something I could see Jack doing. He is a teenager, right? So obviously, he'd try to make the most of it!**

**This is kind of in honor of the fact that **_**I just got my license! Woo meeeee! **_**I admit, I did drive on the wrong side of the road for a few seconds. But… I passed! Wooooo! I think it's cause I parallel parked the hell out'a that parking lot. SO proud. But if you are driving down the east of America one day and see someone on the wrong side of the road… might just be me! **

**And one more thing! I have about two more of these Jack is a teenager fics. And they all have to do with things that a teenager sometimes does, or at least wonders about.**

**One of them is drinking (especially since he lives with a Russian… who had a large supply of **_**Russian vodka**_**).**

**If you want more, just suggest more! Kinda fun to show this side of Jack!**

**I'm also thinking of doing an idea for Pitch. Because I loved him.**

**Thanks for all my reviewers! You are all amazing! You truly are! I've been sending out personal messages to a lot of you, but if you haven't gotten one, expect one soon! Also, sorry about any spelling/grammer mistakes in this one. It wasn't beta-d. I was desperate to get it up! But thanks to mjbaerman anyway! You're still amazing!  
**

**Onto the fic!**

* * *

"Please, please, _please_, _PLE-EE-EE-EAS!_"

The pleases had been going on for hours. And North was getting a headache.

"For last time, Jack. No. Not going to happen." His attention once more off the boy and onto a few of the yetis. "Hey! Красьте это красным!" His mother tongue slipped out easily as he pointed to the group of green dollhouses. "I said _red_! You no understand?"

The yeti only let out an indignant, "_gvota_?!", and set to grabbing the new cans of paint, muttering what could only be curses under his mustache.

North walked past the yeti, working his way down the walkway. He looked along the isles and isles of toys, watched as they were tested through the air, rolled on tables and driven on floors. For a moment he was in his zone. Perfectly at peace with himself and his work. Nothing to distract him, annoy, make him want to-

"Ple-ee-ee-ee-_eease_!"

Never mind.

He was going to have to find a good, solid wall and bang his head against it. If he didn't have an aneurism first.

"Jack," he tried to sound reasonable, very hard to do after so many hours of the unmoving argument, "ees too dangerous."

"But... but..." the boy struggled, thinking of anything that would justify his plead, finally settling on spreading his arms and shouting, "it's my duty!"

North faltered, "No. Duty ees to be Guardian!"

"It's my… job!"

"No. Job ees weenter. _Paint it blue_! You are fun, not psy-chootic." He strode on, pointing out other mistakes in coloring and build, or spreading praises where they were deserved.

"It's my constitutional right as a _teenager_!" The last call was a final one, said in such a way as to avoid further argument. That kind of time that says this is the answer, there can be no other one, I'm right, you're wrong, _deal with it_.

North's feet stopped where they were, planting firmly against the red carpet that adorned the walkway. From behind him he heard the light thump of Jack landing on the ground, his staff clunking ungracefully. Slowly, he turned to face the rather disgruntled teen.

"How ees dis a right? Explain. Den we figure out rest."

"Well… Jamie said-"

"Oh! So now Guardian is taking orders from nine year old, very much comfort," and though the last phrase was distorted due to his broken English, he somehow managed to fill in the cracks with sarcasm.

Jack merely huffed, crossing his arms and glaring up at his elder. Finally North sighed and motioned for him to _please, do continue_.

"As I was _saying,_" Jack stood taller, "Jamie's babysitter, Meghan, she just turned eighteen."

"And…"

"And she got her license."

"License to vhat? Kill?" North crossed his own, broad, arms, mimicking the albino in front of him, trying his best to hide a growing smirk.

"No!" And Jack found himself once more growing frustrated. "Drive!" He took on an I-Know-Everything sort of expression, his chin lifting, "She did well on the test first time around because of her awesome knowledge of the k-turn. She even took it on stick." North wasn't sure what this _stick_ was, but it sounded horrific. "And," Jack continued, "because she only had to parallel park _three_ _times '_till she got it right, and only forgot her blinker _once_, she passed. And then it cost her six dollars at the dmv and her picture turned out okay... that's what she said, at least. Her picture looked pretty bad to me."

"I still do not see how dis 'as to do wit' you?" And with a wave of his hand, he turned to continue walking again, but was very quickly stopped by a scrawny boy who sprinting forward, then skidding to a stop in front of the trunk of a man. Spreading his arms in a rather hilarious attempt at barring the way, he glared up at the Russian.

"She got to drive when she was eighteen! And so does, like, every other teen on the planet! It's our _right_ to drive! I'm seventeen! And right now I'm the _only one on earth_ who's not behind the wheel! I'm a disgrace to my own population!"

"I hardly believe dese statistics prove to be very true." He still tried to look stern, but found it hard to not allow the twinkle in his eyes to show. Jack didn't see it, so he figured that at least counted. The boy was too busy ranting, anyway.

"Of course they're true! Gah, North! If you don't let me drive, I'll grow up to be unstable and agsty!"

"You wont grow up."

"Then I'll just be angsty!" Jack glowered, "I'll close my door and play rock music really loud and only talk about how my life sucks. And… and you'll have to send me away forever!"

"Good. Den I'll let Bunny take you. He ees looking to find new helper."

If Jack could have paled any more he certainly did then. Eyes popping, then furrowing in a challenge. "You wouldn't…"

"I t'ink you an' I both know day I would."

Jack was silent for a moment -thank Manny, North's head was about to split- and stared down at the carpet, thinking hard. North patiently waited for something to come, a complaint most likely or maybe some keening, that would be new, but it would seem as if the boy had finished. Again, thank Manny. It had been _hours_. And some part of North wanted to cheer on his mini triumph.

But…

The boy just looked _so_ defeated. Eyes shaded by a tilted brow, hair covering most of his expression. All of it but the subtle downturn of his pale lips and the hunching of thin shoulders.

And North found himself, rather than lavishing in the silence, dreading it. He hated to think it, but it was true. Jack, in some twisted and demented way, had a point. Driving _was_ a rather large part of a teenagers life. His job as a Guardian was to defend the smaller tykes of the world. But he never missed the way older siblings, late at night, raved about being able to drive by themselves. He'd been almost caught a few times by said teens who, with their newfound skill, stayed out until all hours, coming home just as he was scrambling up the chimney. And then there were always those few letters he received from the little kids, asking for a license for Christmas, because they wanted to be like their parent for sibling. That always earned a chuckle from the Russian.

Jack had never gotten that chance. He'd been born in an age where the most you could drive was a small cart. There was no chance to beg his father for the keys or ask his mother for a parallel parking lesson. By the time cars were invented Jack was already 100 years or so into his life of solitude, with no one to explain to him how to work a gear shift or which petal meant stop and which meant go. Hell, he didn't have anyone to explain that he couldn't just take a car (had he ever tried…? North would ask him _that_ later).

And the more he thought about it, the more his imaginings shifted towards his own person. His time period in the bowels of Russia was also not in a time when cars had been made. And often times the streets were too snowy for even the best of ox carts to shuffle through. He'd been changed as an older man. And as he watched life go past him he watched as other older men like him changed the way they interacted with children. First teaching to farm. Then to fish. And then to ride a bike. Next thing he knew, the times had changed and fathers were teaching their sons how to steer a car off the highway.

He'd gotten to experience that just as much as Jack had.

Looking down at the boy now he decided that Jack was, in some small ways, a son to him. He'd never had a child of his own, and thought he was around children quite a lot (and even more now, thanks to said teenager), there was nothing truly parental about it. This situation, he suddenly felt, was in fact, parental. He was certainly around enough to be considered a son. And they had the same spirit, wonder, fun ideas. Heck, they even had the same hair color. It went one step past the odd and ends family they had forged, creating a slightly tighter sort of bond. One made from strange and confusing and happy instances.

So why shouldn't he be able to have these kind of "bonding" moments with him?

It was too late to go back into the past and create memories. He'd never be able to teach Jack, as an even younger child, how to tie his shoe or read or sing a Russian folksong. The boy wasn't that small anymore. If he wanted to create memories, he'd have to work with what he had. And what he had was a teenager in the 21st century.

And apparently, as the advancements in life had dictated, one of the best ways to create some new family moments, was driving.

North sighed, drawing his hand down his face. There was no way he was going to strip Jack of the opportunity of an experience. And… him of one as well.

"Jack…" No response. "Jack?" Jack looked up, uncertain. His expression was wavering, decided between stubborn and defeated, stubborn almost winning over. "Eet… eet weel be hard…" he was going to regret this, he knew it, "I only have sleigh…"

"Wait…" the Spirit of Winter was tilted his head, eyes briefly sparking. "Are you saying…"

"You'll have to learn to control, first. An' den rest can come. But ees much different than car. I never drive car, but dis I already know."

"So you mean-"

"Eef you follow rules, and der are lots of dose… and take lessons seriously…"

"Then…" smile lifting more and more by the second, "you mean… I can…"

"Yes, Jack," and North couldn't hide his smile anymore, "I'll teach you to drive."

The whoop of joy almost shattered his ear drums and the tackled he received, though doing little to actually knock him over, did blow the wind out of him and leave him with a sore gut. But Jack's face, looking like it just might break from smiling, almost made up for that niggling fear in his gut, as well as the internal voice shouting:

_You're gonna regret this later!_

He was absolutely positive that he was, in fact, going to regret this later. But for now he would have some fun.

And with that, he followed Jack, who was jumping like a pogo stick on speed, toward the garage, thinking about how much Bunny was going to just _love_ this.

* * *

**Sorry this was so short! Just a funny little fic to pass the time! The other one might take a few more days, that's why. But so far its moving along. And with midterms now here... it's been a little hard to write. So I'm doing what I can with what I got, you know?**

**However, I'll put this up to a vote! If you guys want, I'll update tomorrow or Friday (that's my choice!) with one or the other story.  
**

**THE FUNNY ONE  
**

**a) It looked like fun at the parties, teens sloshing the bubbly liquid around red plastic vessels, and having a hell more fun once said cup was empty. So, if his math checked out (he'd always been fairly good at math), then if _he_ drank alcohol... he'd be even MORE fun! That is... if Bunny would let him. Sigh... too bad Bunny's a law abiding citizen.  
**

**OR  
**

**THE ANGSTY/SUPER FLUFFY ONE  
**

**b) Jack, it would seem, was not at all a touchy feely sort of person. Always straying away from the hands and sides of others, quickly darting out of their path. And for three hundred years that was how it had been. He'd met the other Guardian's at first, of course, once or twice in those three centuries. Sandy many more times than the others. But he'd met them. And during those few times they'd all learned that touch was a bit no-no.** **And then Jack became a guardian. And everything was different. Touch, real physical touch, was suddenly and surprisingly _craved._ North had brought it up to Tooth once, saying that the young man had nudged against him on purpose the other day. Tooth quickly agreeing, saying that _he'd_ been the one to hug her. And so they'd watched and waited for more times to come. And those times did. Jack was always the first to start something. A hug. A handshake. A simple brush against someone when he walked. Nothing was an accident. He'd avoided touch for so long, that sudden touches were in no ways accidents. They were signs of deprivation and a need for human contact.**

**The choice is yours! I'm just going to sit back here on my wheely chair and let the polls add up.  
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**Thanks to all my reviewers!  
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	15. Touch

**Hoooooly crap. That's... that's all I can say. Honestly. In the span of, what, three hours? Maybe...? I got a total of 70 reviews! And that number is still climbing! I didn't expect ten for that chapter! Next thing I know, my inbox is screaming at me and I literally almost keeled over. You guys really are the best. The amount of support I receive from you is truly amazing! So, to reward you for being your amazing selves, here's another oneshot! TWO IN A NIGHT! WOW!**

**Ok, to clear the air real quick. The poll I gave was to see which one I WOULD DO FIRST! That means that drunk Jack will come! Just later. Maybe tomorow if I've got the time!  
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**You guys seem to really like angst though, because almost 50 out of 70 asked for angst/fluff. What do I always say? The customer is always right! Sorry comedy fans, you'll have to wait a few more hours.  
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**In the meantime, here's a fic to hold you over! Again... it's kinda short. 3,205 words. But the last was only about 2,000, so... Whatever! I think you might like this one! Ok, really hope you do! Thanks for all your support!  
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**And again, I was too exited to think, so I didn't send it to my amazing beta mjbaerman. So sorry, girl! So if you see grammer mistakes... ignore them. Or... don't. Whatever. I read it over and found as many as I could. But it wont be perfect.  
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**HAPPY READING!  
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* * *

Jack, it would seem, was not at all a touchy feely sort of person. Always straying away from the hands and sides of others, quickly darting out of their path. And for three hundred years that was how it had been. He'd met the other Guardian's at first, of course, once or twice in those three centuries. Sandy many more times than the others. But he'd met them. And during those few times they'd all learned that touch was a bit no-no.

Sandy had been the first to actually meet the boy. Like the happy man he was, he swirled around Jack, watching as the teen marveled at the dolphins that swam joyfully in circles above his head. And then he'd gone to pat Jack's shoulder as a goodbye sort of gesture-

-and been very surprised when said boy jumped backwards as though Sandy had tried to burn him. The Guardian of Dreams had been shocked, of course. There had been no malice in his eyes nor any kind of threat displayed. And the pudgy fellow was practically famous for his kind temperament. However he let the matter drop and waved, smiling just as brightly as before even though his mind was spinning with questions that would most likely never be answered.

North had been second. Jack had always had a fondness for cold places, go figure, and so when he had drifted one day towards Santoff Claussen he'd thought it a dream come true. A house in the coldest place on earth filled with so many _fun_ things to do! Rumors traveled fast in the "immortal" world, so he'd known about the head man, his real name and the marvelous things his workshop was rumored to be filled with rather quickly. It had been twitted to him from one of Tooth's helpers as she'd flown by- the phrase 'a little bird told me' had never been so true'. And he'd decided that, based on what he'd been told, he _needed_ to visit.

Just one peek inside wouldn't have hurt.

He'd snuck in through one of the many sunroofs, popping it open with his staff. He never made it down the hall. The yeti's had found him first, trying to grab at him, garbling some nonsense in a language Jack had never heard before (and he'd heard about every language there was, understanding it or not). Suffice to say, Jack had panicked, ducking and diving and not letting one paw come near his skin. Quickly darting down the hallway, into another hallway and into another, brain muddled with fast thoughts that didn't allow him to think clearly.

He'd been stopped after he'd bumped into something large and was thrown onto his back, staff falling from his grip. Once he'd regained proper thought processing, he'd stared up into the face of...

Santa. The man was looking down at him, confused to how he'd gotten in, beefy hands on his hips and a frown in his features.

Santa had, of course, reached down to help the young guardian up, with intentions of asking him why he'd been in his home and how he'd gotten there in the first place...

But the young man had skittered out before he'd gotten the chance.

And then with Tooth. Flying through the sky she'd chanced a meeting with him. Accidentally bumping into him whilst soaring over Russia. Seeing that same fear and anxiety as two bodies met was startling. Tooth had been the one to advance, holding out her hand in a sort of peace gesture. Jack had retreated with each step, finally fleeing when she'd tried to ask him what was wrong.

The next time they'd seen each other she'd watched as he kept his distance, as well as his cool.

And after all these meetings had been said and done, none of them had ever questioned it again. Never intended to question it again. They'd just moved on with their lives, forming one simple rule in their brains should they ever meet the winter sprite again.

Do NOT touch Jack Frost.

Ever.

And so they hadn't.

They all met him again, of course. It was unavoidable. But the next time had always been different. Not one attempt to have any kind of physical contact was made. No handshakes, no hugs, not even a simple pat on the shoulder. Nothing. And for three hundred years, that was how it stayed.

And then Jack became a guardian. And everything was different.

Touch, real physical touch, was suddenly and surprisingly _craved._ North had brought it up to Tooth once, saying that the young man had nudged against him as a sort of a gesture. The first time Jack had _ever_ touched him. And it had startled the man beyond words, even if the simplicity of such of an everyday gesture. Tooth quickly agreeing saying that _he'd_ been the one to hug her. And so they'd watched and waited for more times to come.

And those times did.

Jack was now always the first to start something. A hug. A handshake. A brush against someone when he walked. Nothing was an accident. He'd avoided touch for so long that there was no way any of them were accidents. They were signs of deprivation and a need for human contact.

And in some ways that made them curious.

But in most… it made them sad.

"Why now?" North questioned them around the fire on one of the rare nights that most of them could attend. Jack had been working late on what he deemed _his best snow storm yet_ over Canada. "Why now does he decide to become so... so..."

"Close?" Bunny questioned. He'd seen it. But never been able to experience it. It would seem that Jack simply didn't want the same from him. Never, once in all the time they'd spent together, had Jack come near to actually touching him. He'd run to the others, but never to him. And that kind of... hurt...

"Exactly! Close! But why now?"

Sandy shrugged, a question mark forming over his head.

"I can look into his memories, if you'd like!" Tooth's idea came fast, an idea, they were sure, she'd been sitting on for an awful long time. "It's no trouble."

Prying was not something they liked to do often. But if that was the only way to get answers then so be it. They'd pry all they had to until they finally had what they needed. And they were sure that Jack would not be the first, or the last, to tell them anything.

"See vhat you find." North nodded, sipping from his hot cocoa. "But do not dwell on subject too long! It ees easy to lose oneself een projects like dis."

Tooth had agreed. That was true. Having a castle full of memories was often times a double edged sword. One could get lost in the lives of others and get stuck in a helpless circle. Many times her helpers had to pry her away from particular boxes, things that she'd been watching and wishing she could have helped with. Her only connection for so long to children through long tubes filled with teeth.

Of course, now that she got to interact with kids this was less of a danger. And searching through Jack's memories, as much as she may have hated the idea of spying, wouldn't be a particular danger or much of a strain to her life…

… or so she thought.

It wasn't until Tooth finally decided to dive into his memories the next night that they figured out what had gone wrong.

She'd flown into North's office, sobbing and wiping at red rimmed eyes. Her form shaking and feathers falling out to the floor in a display of bright greens and violets.

"He... b-beat him!" She hardly had the willpower to stutter out what she'd seen. "H-his f-f-father!"

The next half an hour had been dedicated to what she had seen. All the Guardians, save Jack, sat in a circle and just listened. They listened to tales of switches and whips. Of belts and large iron buckles. They listened to tales of alcohol and screaming. Crying from mothers and sisters. The two huddled in the corner, weeping. Weeping and screaming and crying and _begging_.

But none from Jack, Tooth had told them. Never, _ever_ from Jack.

For some strange reason, while the mother had fled and the sister attempted to wriggle away… Jack had _always_ just taken it _all_.

"Like he was taking it for everyone else," She'd finally calmed down after her fourth eggnog. "He just... stood there. And took it."

"If I had known-" Bunny's fists were curled tight around boomerangs. "If I had known-"

And they'd all agreed.

Jack, their naughty list Jack, their don't touch me Jack, their play pranks, guardian of fun, no care in the world Jack. He took everything for everyone and never said a word. He'd taken it from his father first. And then from them.

Neglect, they'd decided, was often times far worse a punishment.

And after that it had been decided. Jack's touches that he craved would be received. He deserved what they had failed to give him. And if they could give everything back with something as simple as a hug- though it was impossible and they knew it- then the four of them would try their _hardest_ to do it.

It started the next day when North had gone up to Jack and just hugged him. For no good reason other than he wanted to do it. And when he'd pulled away... the mirth in the mans eyes was hard to miss.

Tooth had elbowed him comically one day after watching North accidentally kick an elf a good nine yards across his factory.

Sandy would tug on Jack's arm for attention when the others didn't listen.

And more came to follow. More and more touches that Jack easily received and delivered. All of them, each time, gaining them even more trust on the young mans part. All of them loving the way his eyes lit up every time they gave something back. Every single time they showed him that, yes, they did care about him. And no, they'd never hurt him.

All of them were happy.

Except for Bunny.

Of all the touches, it seemed that his own was the only one Jack was deprived of. He could see it too. He'd tried to join in, to help in this team effort. He'd tried to sit next to him at a meeting. Jack scooted away, just a few inches. He'd tried to elbow jack playfully. Jack jumped. Whenever he hopped into the room for a gathering, Jack often approached as if he expected a hug, much like the others had given, then quickly curled in on himself as if nothing had happened, almost like he was remembering something.

The worst was when he raised his hand, to correct North or wave at a yeti. Jack, without fail, always flinched.

It hurt, he wouldn't deny that. Why of all the people in the group was he the one Jack was still scared of. Yes, he could be a grouch. Yes, he could be a bit of a wanker sometimes. And yes, he did scold the boy occasionally. But what had he ever done to be looked at with such distrust? With such fear?

Each time Jack flinched Bunny would stare down at his paw in wonder and hate, trying to figure out what he had done wrong! He'd wake up at night, thinking. He'd been zoning out more, and egg production, for the first time, had slowed. Everything had stopped, his mind too muddled to work.

He'd figured it out, though.

And when he had, the guilt was almost unbearable.

Memories of a destroyed Easter came to mind. He remembered shouting at Jack, saying things he'd later regret. Accusations thrown at one direct target. Glares had never been so heavy. He'd been absolutely furious and scared and for the first time, hopeless.

And out of pure anger, though no excuse could be made, he had raised his hand to strike Jack.

The blow had fallen short, his paw falling at his side. And even though there had been no violent action taken, he could still remember watching as Jack had stood in front of him. His eyes large and scared. But he hadn't moved. He'd been willing to take the blows that never came.

Always willing to take pain for something that was never his fault, but take them anyway. For someone. Anyone who needed the relieve.

Far too willing, Bunny now thought.

How trust in touch was going to be rekindled he had no idea. But after that day, Bunny was determined to make it work.

He couldn't approach him. That didn't seem to work. Whenever he did, Jack shied away, a smile on his face, but a nervous gleam in his eyes. And Jack didn't seem like he was ready to approach Bunny himself. But if trust was not created some point in the near future, there was a niggling fear that it would never be created at all. However, Bunnymund was patient. So, like the Easter Bunny he was, he sat and waited for the opportunity to arise.

Opportunities seem to like to come around. They have a habit of doing that. And his finally did come around. And in classic Jack fashion, it had come in the form of a prank.

* * *

A harmless prank was all it was. Jack's plan had been to give the warren a little Christmas cheer. In February. And did this with snow. Not a lot of snow, but enough to stick and give the land a nice Dalmatian coating. So he'd snuck in while the Bunny had been out, and did his work. By the time E. Aster Bunnymund had returned, he'd returned to a sparkling and rather chilly home.

Snow littered in small patches over his warren. Snow, covering the flowers and trees and the grass. A few unlucky egglets shivering, but no worse for the wear. A few of the golems had their mean faces on, a couple of them looked rather pleased with their new attire. The rest had taken to pacing, as if trying to keep their feet warm.

Bunny though... Bunny just stared at it, wide eyed.

The spirit responsible watched his reaction from the side, smiling wickedly and chuckling from a distance.

"Like the new look, cottontail?"

The Pooka's mouth had opened and closed a few times.

"Wha' did you do, mate!?"

"Eh…" Jack scratched his white hair, leaning on his staff. "I livened it up a bit! Looks good, right?"

"You snowed my bloomin' garden!"

"It'll water the flowers."

"My carrots'l freeze!"

"Duh. Ever tried frozen carrots? They're soooo much better!"

"My paint river!"

"Ice skating party!" Jack smirked as he counteracted each answer, the ball going back and forth between courts.

"Ya gumby! Ya just froze eternal spring!" Ball in Jack's court.

"No! I _lightly dusted_ it, there's a difference. It'll thaw out in a few hourse." Ball in Bunny's court.

"Yer such a _gumby_!" Match point.

"Well yer a cute wittle bunny who cant have any fun."

Bunny had just stared at him, leaning against a tree and sniggering. Only a few yards away, from relaxed from the distance they had between them. Staff, as always, in hand. So easy to attack.

With a growl, and a reply of, "That's it. Yer dead," Bunny realized one thing.

The opportunity had come.

Jack's chuckle turned into a small yelp, eyes filled with genuine fear when Aster rounded on him.

Bare feet pushed off the ground, wind quickly wrapping up its child in a protective embrace and tugging him into the sky. But the team of wind and master was no match for Bunny. The paw had grabbed the cold ankle and dragged Jack back down before he'd had much of a chance to move. Jack struggled to free himself, terrified of the punishment he was going to receive. Terrified of the hands that had tried to hurt, hands that had hurt him in memories he only slightly remembered. Small scars burning through his back and brain.

"Let me go!" The newest Guardians voice had raised a few octaves, trembling, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Bunnymund could almost hear the teens heart pumping through powerful ears. He could almost imagine the ideas of belts and switches that ran through the boys mind. Thinking Bunny was going to _beat_ him. Teach him a lesson.

Act like his father.

_Trust me_, Bunny mentally cooed, _just trust me, Frostbite_.

Because there was nothing he wanted more in the world at that moment, then to be trusted. He was the last one for a reason, and that reason was his own fault. He would fix it. And if he had to fix it this way, then so be it. He'd fix it this way. Whether Jack liked it or not.

What Jack had expected was to be brought down under the rod for his trickery. What he did not expect was for his body to be restrained under the Easter Bunny's arm and for a paw to run itself over his side. A shrill scream erupted from Jack's throat. But not a bad one- no. One that was riddled with laughter as the elder Guardian promptly...

...tickled him.

"S-stop!" Laughing and struggling to leave. "S-stupid, k-kangaroo!"

"Oh, Kangaroo, am I?" That resulted in a quick switch of arm position, holding the spirit down hard enough against his side- enough to know just who was in charge in _this_ warren- and ran his knuckles over the albino's head. "Teach you a lesson, ya little drongo!"

"S-stop it!"

"Swear you'll never play a prank on me again! Swear it!"

"N-NEVER!"

"Fine," he switched his arm to get better range of Jack's side and stomach, "then face the consequences, mate!" And with that he continued to tickle the Guardian of Fun once more.

"I-I swear!" Jack had to struggle to talk between squeals and short yelps.

"You swear what, eh?"

"I- I swear-" another fit of giggles, "I w-wont ever... ever play anot-another p-pr-prank!" It was a lie, and Bunny knew it. But for now it was good enough. Of course… he was already in a position to continue…

"Fine! Now say Easter's better than Christmas!"

"Ha ha! EASTERS BETTER-ha!-THAN-ha!ha!-CHRISTMAS!" Jack was finally able to shout through his laughing fit. He was released from the hold after a few more good pokes to the side and was left to catch his breath as Bunny stood beside him, smiling.

"Y-you... that w-wasn't fair!" Jack smiled up at him from under messy bangs.

Bunny shrugged. "The snows not either." He pointed a finger at Jack, smirking. "I wasn't lyin'! Try this again, and you'll face my wrath."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Jack had glared at him. But the smiles in his eyes were unmistakable.

The next time Bunny had come to a meeting he'd been welcomed with a huge, brotherly hug…

… from Jack.

Touching, it would seem, was something Jack was going to do an awful lot of in the future.

* * *

**I'm thinking of expanding on the idea of Jack being beaten by his father later. Maybe even in the Jack death arc. Like, they see scars that aren't from battle. That would be interesting to say the least. **

**Next part of the death arc will most likely come on the weekend. I'm working hard on this chapter, people! Need to make it amazing!  
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**Thanks for reading!  
**

**~Gal  
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	16. Black Paint: Jack's Death Part 4

**Look! I'm alive! I know, this one took a while. And I did try to make it longer than this, but life happened. Sorry guys. **

**On the bright side, it snowed at least two feet on Saturday, so that was a fun time! And, on the other bright side, my birthday is this month! So I'm going to do a special for that very special of occasions! It's going to be pretty long, and it's going to be super emotional and fluffy and filled with lots of awesome good stuff. **

**And don't worry! I will be filling out the rest of the requests soon. This one request is just... taking a while! **

**Oh, and yes, this isn't the end. And yes. This one does end in another cliffhanger. **

**I suck.**

**I want to thank my fabulous beta mjbeirman. Though she did not get to beta for this one (I've been sending her other stuff) she was with me in spirit! And spirit is more powerful than 100 lasers! (if someone gets that pun you get a cookie) This might have mistakes! I was sooo anxious to get it up and out that I didn't have time for corrections! Soooo sorry!**

**Thanks again to all of my reviewers who have given me sooo many amazing reviews! Once more, this is all for you!**

**My question for you. Should the next chapter be another break in which I fulfill a request? Or should I just continue this?**

* * *

o0o

_"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."_

~C.S. Lewis

o0o

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"Bunny, can you tell vhat ees wrong?" The frustrated voice of North followed Bunny through the halls of Santof Claussen, echoing off of empty halls. They'd assigned a yeti to stand outside of Jack's room. The Russian had wanted to stay by the boys bedside, but Bunny insisted otherwise. As gently as he could, without scaring the boy, he'd had to explain why their absence was necessary.

_He'd risen from his place by the boys bedside, his paw scrubbing at his nose, trying to remove the viscous smell from his nose. It stung, permeating his smell and thoughts. He sneezed and then scowled, scrubbing at his nose again. But salt and copper and rust had decided to take up residence for a while. _

"_North…" the green eyes looking up were still and serious, "There's somethin' wrong with 'im…" fists tightening, "an'... an' I know what it is." Those green eyes flickered down at the boy on the bed the same time the blue ones did._

"_Vhat are you-"_

_The boy on the bed groaned, his own eyes fluttering as he wavered in between consciousness and dreamland, fighting it in order to hear the words being said above him. The pale brow wrinkled in concentration. "W-r-r-" like a man on anesthetic his lips refused to cooperate. And yet he still managed to slur out the word. "Wro-o-ng?"_

_North stood helpless by the bedside, not quite sure how to respond. It wasn't like he could- he didn't know what was the matter with the child in the first place. Bunny on the other hand hesitated. His idea was fairly clear, and his conscious tugged wholeheartedly at his heartstrings, telling him to tell the kid exactly what was wrong with him. And on the other hand, looking down at him, he wasn't sure if the truth was the best thing to tell._

_He kneeled down, his finger scrubbing at his nose again. Waiting another moment, fidgeting with his brain for a response, he toyed with the edges of the covers and tried to keep his face neutral. _

"_Nothin's wrong with ya, Frostbite," his fingers, tugging at the duvet, were all that kept his voice from wavering. "Nothin… bad. But North and I," he turned toward the man, willing him to keep his mouth shut, "…we're gonna figure it out. An' we're gonna fix it. A'right?" Who he was asking he wasn't sure. Either way, Jack hardly responded and North gave a nod, both parties seemingly understanding some part of their predicament. And after an awkward pat to the arm, Bunny got up once more, moving away from Jack, and pulling North out into the hall. And there it was, after North had shut the door to Jack's room, that the worry began._

"You still do not answer question!" North's footsteps only increased as his voice did. "Vhat ees wrong."

"Can't be sure, mate," turning down another hall, Bunny attempted to remember where the library was. "But I think…"

"You think vhat!? Bunny! Tell!"

"I can't be sure! Let me just… is this the library?" His paw gestured to the carved double doors to his left and North let out a humph. Taking it as the affirmative, Bunny pushed the doors open. They were heavy, but noiseless, and swung without so much as a creak, to reveal the hundreds of shelves that lay behind them. Bunny nodded.

"Right. You look in 'natomy. I'll check medical hist'ry 'r somethin'." About to bound off without an answer, Aster rolled off his heels…

… and was stopped by a large beefy hand grabbing his forearm. He turned to face the face of a very flustered Santa. His face not so jolly anymore, his eyes flickering between anger, frustration, sadness and worry. "Bunny, I know dat you worry. But I worry too. And I cannot help if I not know vhar problem ees." He sighed, dropping his arm. "Am closest thing Jack has to fa'der. I must know. Please. For _my_ sake, Bunny. Please."

The rabbit thought for a moment, brows huddled together, finally nodding. "It's only a guess-"

"-Guess ees enough."

Another nod. "Well…" he stumbled, trying to find the right way to word it. "… his ribs broke."

"I am aware. I feex. 'Member?"

Bunny did remember. He'd always remember. And it was no time soon that the spine tingling snap for bone being readjusted was going to leave him. He was almost positive that when he finally was able to sleep, whenever he was blessed enough by Manny to do so, he'd have nightmares about what happened. And he was sure that sound would be the background music.

Pitch was going to have a field day.

"What I mean to say is… when someone breaks their ribs… usually it's because they fall."

"Jack did fall," North tilted his head. "Nothing ees unusual 'bout eet."

"Well, that's where yer wrong and right. He fell. But… he was pushed down. Hard. And when he was pushed…" his paws moved animatedly as he attempted an explanation. "I think tha' maybe… his rib went an poked _into_ one'a 'is lungs."

North's intake was appropriate with the topic of breathing on the table, though Bunny was hardly going to point that out. "So… vhat you mean by dis? You mean dat Jack… he had blood… inside?"

A broken way of saying it, but a way to say it nonetheless. Aster paused, thinking, then shook his head. "Maybe. Just… maybe. When the lung's 'r punctured one'a them deflates. Kinda like a brown bag. That's why I listened to 'is chest. It's… flat. Like a broken bag or'a b'loon."

"Can he breathe?"

Bunny swallowed, "For now. It ain't like he won't be able ta'. Tha's not 'ow it works."

"How does it work."

There was another hesitation, the Pooka not knowing how much he could tell to the larger man in front of him. Too much information could make for a break down, and then nothing would be accomplished. And if nothing was accomplished… He contained a shudder, not wanting to think about the what if's at the moment.

"Bunny…?"

"Look, mate, if we don't do somethin'… it's 'ard to explain wha's gonna happen."

North grunted, his brow furrowing, "abridged version den."

"Fine," he took a moment to put together an answer. "I don't know wha's in his lungs. Righ' now it could be anythin' from air ta' some kinda fluid."

"Blood?"

"Not necessarily. But either way, it's fillin' up his lungs. An' if we don't do anythin' then Jack's gonna, lit'rally, _drown_."

North stumbled back as the last words left his mouth. _Drown_. There was such an ominous tone to it, a finality about the way Bunny was saying it. If they did nothing, if their time was wasted, if one second was lost, then their Jack was going to leave. Lying in that bed, alone, on the second floor of Santoff Claussen, their Jack was slowly suffocating through a con-caving body. His large hand gripped the table behind him, face blanching, as the realization moved over him.

Jack had drowned once before.

There were no details in the death. He'd stopped before he'd gone in too deep. But the fear in his voice, his eyes staring dis-trustingly at the water. They'd attempted to banish his phobia little by little, never asking for details (they were convinced that he'd eventually open up and tell them on his own accord) and allowing Bunny to start swimming lessons (an endeavor not quite begun yet). They'd done so much to try and convince him that while he was in their arms, in their care, he would be safe. Had he realized that fact yet? None of them, specially North, were not quite sure. But they kept going, hoping that one day he'd recognize it as a perfectly stable place to call home.

So how do you tell a child you've told you would protect, had told that nothing ever again would touch him, that he was literally falling into his grave once more?

How do you tell a child that, at that very moment, they're drowning?

North wasn't sure how he would react. They would have to tell him, lest Bunny would barge in and shout the news before they could. But his reaction was not one that could be predicted. Whatever it was he was sure it had to be less than whatever kind of panic attack he was having now.

Sapphire eyes looked up into the furry face of his companion. "Vhat are we to do?" The question was croaked out, voice shaking in fear of whatever the rabbit would say next.

"I'll tell ya what we're gonna do. We're gonna fix 'im."

North had never been so happy to have the Guardian of Hope on his side.

With a tired nod the swordsman stood tall once more. "Do you know vhat to do?"

"I healed Pooka armies b'fore the massacres, mate. These things weren't uncommon."

"Den you know…"

"I said I healed _Pooka's_." Bunnymund drew a paw down his face, "Give me any other injury an' I'll fix it. But we're talkin' bout _internal_ stuff here. There's a diff'rence b'tween 'umans and giant rabbits. Organ placement, bone structure, it's all differ'nt."

"Den vhat do we do!?"

Bunny poked him in the chest, glaring, "Like I said, we'll fix 'im. I didn' say it would be easy. But it'll be done. It _has ta be done_."

North nodded, his head bobbing feverishly and his beard following suit. "Right."

"Tha's why we're here. We're gonna find out what we need. Fer me ta figure out wha' procedure ta follow. Once I get a good look at a medical journal I'll be good ta' go."

"An me…?"

"Yer job… I had somethin' differen't fer ya ta do." Bunny grabbed North's wrist, dragging him around the shelves of books, occasionally glancing at a spine or two and huffing as it disappointed him. But finally he did find what he was looking for.

_Medical Tools; A History_

His paw jabbed out and snatched it off the dusty shelf, flipping through the crisp pages. The book was fairly new, one of the latest medical diaries that The Guardian or Wonder owned. But he always did try to update his library every few months. His extensive collection was always growing, and the rooms tended to grow with it, thought how he'd never tell. But every few years, it would seem that the room itself expanded a few couple of feet, sometimes more.

"Here," his thoughts were broken as the book was shoved into his hands. He found himself staring at a page filled entirely with a picture. Labels pointed to different sections of the contraptions, a weird apparatus of sorts. A tube on one end filled with different gears and layers, a thick tube leading out of the top, capped off by a viscous looking needle.

"Vhat ees eet?" He put his face closer to the pages, getting a better look at the minute details that were embedded in the machine's design.

"It's wha' doctors use ta' drain out a person's lungs. Tha's wha' we need ta' use if we're gonna get anywhere. There ain't no other way of doin it, and there ain't no other way I'm gonna risk it even if there was."

"Fine, fine, understood. But we have no such instrument available-"

"-And that's where you come in." North's face shot up to face the stern Pooka's. "We need'jya ta build this."

"_Build…? This?_" His eyes flickered down to the torture device in front of him. He'd never build something like that. Not intentionally anyways. That just wasn't what he did. He was meant to bring fun and joy, not pain and sorrow. And looking down at the strange machine, there was no way that _thing_ was meant to bring any sort of joy whatsoever.

"I _know_ it ain't in yer comfort zone," that was the understatement of the century, "but yer the only inventor here. If anyone can do it, it's you. An' I trust ya ta make it right. First time 'round." The paws gripped the mans biceps, giving a reassuring squeeze, "Jack's d'pendin' on this one, mate. Right now we all gotta do our part. An' this…" he motioned to the strange, evil machine, "this is yours."

North's hand smoothed down the paper silently, tracing the ebony lines and reading the words he couldn't begin to comprehend. He could build it. It was complicated, as it's many twists and turns and dials showed. But not impossible. It certainly wouldn't be the hardest thing he'd built. In fact, he'd built much stranger. By the looks of it if he could fine a spare ball pump and dissect it, add in a few gears, a few notches and a good amount of upgrades…

Thinking hard, he remembered the ball pump he'd left in his office a few days ago. That particular inflation device was fairly new… and if he could ask the yeti's to scour the workshop stations for all the gears that they had…

He nodded. "Right. I vill get to work." Bunny released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, mirroring North in an autopilot sort of nod.

"Good on'ya."

"An' you?"

Aster was already on his feet once more, pacing the isles and scouring shelves. "Me? I'm going to find a good book on the human body. Find Tooth, ask her ta' get ready. Sheila's the only other person I know who can take blood easy, and Sandy, we need ta' find a job fer 'im. Tell 'im not ta let Jack nod off now, can't have that," he plucked a book of the shelf, not even bothering to look at North, "I'll be up ta' visit Frostbite, get 'im ready."

"Will you tell him?" North already knew the answer. And was dreading it.

"Course." Curse Bunny for being too honest. He was right, but that hardly made it better.

"Ok… but be gentle in explanation please. Do not scare boy. He hardly needs it."

"North, get started on that, will ya. Need it ready 'fore tomorrow." The insult wasn't ill tempered, and the man knew it. Turning on his heel he quickly descended back up, leaving Bunny on his own, and heading to his workshop.

He had a machine to build.

* * *

Bunny had read at least three books before he felt prepared enough. And even then he couldn't stop the foul taste of bile in the back of his throat. He hated it. He didn't want to do what he was going to do, and he hated thinking about it all together. Never before had he imagined that they'd have to hurt a child intentionally.

But this almost seemed worse. It wasn't _a_ child.

It was _their_ child.

_Their Jack_.

And yet, in order to save him…

His head shook, ears flapping, as he made his way towards the room. His decent had been a numb one, he'd hardly remembered climbing the stairs. His head was too filled with medical information and thoughts of what was to come.

But what hurt most, what truly stung ever fiber of his body, was the idea of how he'd have to act.

There was a reason doctors couldn't operate on loved ones. A reason why they couldn't pick up the scalpel when their own flesh and blood was concerned. Because on wrong emotion, one falter, one fearful sob, and all of a sudden that flesh and blood is gone. It was far too true that emotions tended to cloud ones medical judgment.

And here they were, the only people able to help Jack, unfortunately connected to him emotionally. There, of course, lay the answer to their predicament.

Leave emotion out.

It would confuse Jack, hurt Jack, but if it was to save Jack then so be it. He'd have to leave big brother bunny behind and take on a person he often forgot existed. Bunny was used to slipping in and out of roles. His whole life consisted of breaking and reentering shells. But here he'd have to allow a shell to tally encompass him.

Goodbye to sympathetic, worryable, Bunny.

Hello to warrior Pooka, Guardian and fierce opponent E. Aster Bunnymund.

When he finally did approach the door his ears had fixed themselves securely at the base of his skull, his paws latched onto his satchel at his side. He'd left the books behind, he could always go back and look later. They had a little time before anything drastic had to occur. Right now was all about preparation.

Taking in a deep breath he forced his ears to stand erect, fixing his face into a neutral sort of glare, one he was accustomed to wearing before Jack had come around, and grabbed the knob. Another deep breath. He wasn't ready for this. But, then again, he doubted Jack was either. He had to go through with it, for the boy. Because if he couldn't stop and pull himself together then what sort of Guardian of Hope would he be?

Taking another breath he pulled the turned the knob and pushed open the door.

Jack lay on the bed. That was about all he could do. He'd woken up a bit more about an hour after they left, relishing and hating the silence he'd been dropped into. The window was cracked open, courtesy of North, and cool air was drifting in, caressing his face and attempting to dry the sweat and water that beaded on his brow. It didn't quite worked, but it was comforting, and that counted for something.

He took another breath, wincing at the bubbling rattle coming from within the cavities. It hurt and felt strange, pooling at the base of his throat and twisting in his chest. No matter how small the gasp, it stung, so he'd tried to not breathe for longer amounts of time. That hadn't worked out well, leaving him gasping and yelping as his ribs were jostled and the strange bubbling squeezed at his heart. So he'd finally given up, returning to taking small and painful puffs of air.

It had been like that for a while. So when the door slowly creaked open he'd been relieved. To finally have someone with him to dull the pain, tell him everything would be fine… that was what he needed. A shaky smile adorned his elfish features-

-and then it vanished.

The person who entered the room was in no ways unwelcome. When the form of Bunny had stepped through Jack had been overjoyed It was when he saw the look on Bunny's face.

Stern, unforgiving, unmoving. Both paws clutched at a pouch he recognized as the leather one carrying his many art supplies. There was no comfort in his stance and hardly any sympathy in his stoic features.

"B-Bunny…?"

* * *

Bunny grunted, walking forward a few steps after shutting the door. His own conscious was screaming all sorts of things at him, but he pushed it down. Now was hardly the time for morals.

"Bunny?"

There it was again. The scared voice that called out to him from the bed. Bunny's eyes lifted, staring at the boy before flickering down. He couldn't do it. If he looked at Jack then all bets were off. All he had to do was avoid the boys eyes. Make as little contact and conversation as possible, be blunt and avoid eye contact. So instead, sticking to his mantra, he clawed open the bag with more force than necessary and began to search for the right tools.

There was silence for a few moments, and for that Bunny was grateful. It hardly lasted though.

"What's wrong with me? What's going to happen to me?" Jack's frail body had a voice to match, and from where he stood, searching through his satchel, Bunny could hear the push of tears working themselves up the back of his throat. He swallowed, forcing down his own, and instead focused on looking for the right paint brush. What was wrong with him? Was that a trick question? Nothing was wrong with him! He wanted to grab Jack, to shake him until he got sense to seep into that thick skull of his and then hug every fear away. Instead, he furrowed his brow and grabbed his size 4 paint brush, looked at the bristles and then threw it back in. He'd need a size 2.

"Yer right lung's punctured." Bunny's paw sifted some more now that he could feel Jack's gaze on him. "An' the cavity round yer lungs are fillin' up. We don't know with what yet, but our best guess'd be air." There was the size 2. He grabbed it, then set to work on finding the black paint. It was there, and most likely the easiest to find. But Jack's eyes were practically begging him for any form of contact that he simple wouldn't give. Jack had had three hundred years to simple sit and watch people who'd never see him. And though he'd never made a show of reading faces, there was always a chance. He wasn't going to allow Jack to see the fear and hurt in his own.

The black paint came into view, and he had a niggling thought to bury it under the red and yellow and search again, just to delay everything. He grabbed it instead, unscrewing the lid and heading to the bed. "North's in his pers'nal study righ' now makin' a machine." The black paint looked rather... dark. Foreboding. He wondered briefly how Jack's eyes looked, but dismissed it, instead beginning to soak the tip of the brush, swirling the bristles longer then he had to. "What we're gonn' do is drain the air out'a it an keep yer lungs fr'm c'llapsing."

"... how...?" tiny, small, vulnerable. It was a side of Jack he'd never seen before, and it was one he never wished to see again.

Bunny took Jack's wrist, green eyes focusing in on the blue veins that slithered down the boys arm, and slowly lifted the stalk up, trying not to pull up muscle and ribs. The hiss he heard was enough to tell that his efforts were half successful. The arm was pulled over Jack's head. The pillar of his chest, ribs silhouetted through tight skin, making it far too easy to find the spot he was looking for. "Through here..." and with that, he touched the tip of his paint brush between the third and fourth rib, a black mark left in it's place. The mark they'd use to navigate the needle. Jack seemed to shiver, his breath hitching in his throat as soon as the cold paint tattooed itself onto his side, burning through skin and mind.

"We're gonna push a needle through there, tuck it inta ya' lung, an' drain out what we can." The cap was screwed back on, and he let the brush clatter to the side table. He didn't want to wash it off. "If there's more'en that, an there migh' jus' be blood fillin' up yer lungs, we're gonn' let it drain out i'self. Small cut should do the trick." That wasn't exactly a lie. If there was blood they were in for a more dangerous and tricky situation. Draining was one way they'd have to take care of it. But the process was often scary and the discovery even more fearful. It was a messy procedure, one that he hardly wanted to go through. Air was one thing, that they could drain. Blood? That was drowning. That was hard to fix. Harder then what they'd already have to do.

He swore he heard Jack make a sound, and watched as the black point on his side grew darker as the albino skin somehow paled.

"Is... is it gonna hurt?" The question was childish and predictable, Bunny's warrior side shouted. The protective side of him leapt forward, telling him to grab Jack's tiny hand in his own and tell him that everything was going to be fine. He was going to protect him, guard him, no matter what. And he'd fight each and every daemon that dared come near the his imagination. But the other side, so demanding of him to stay in control, wrestled the other part of him down. And he soon found himself once more staring, unwaveringly, at the black dot.

_Yes. Yes it will. _"It might." _That was a better answer._ "It won't be comfy, I can tell you that much. But we're gonn' be careful." And that was all he could offer.

He found that, after that, he couldn't sit and listen to Jack's wheezing breaths, feel his betrayed gaze making his fur stand on end, practically hear the young spirits thoughts; _help me, help me, why wont you help me?_ He wished, for a moment, that he did have the power of MiM. That with one touch, he could make everything go away. But he didn't. And he doubted even MiM had it. So he stood, standing on shaky legs held still only by the years of warrior training, and for the first time looked Jack in the eye.

He was right. Jack did look scared. Scared, and betrayed and begging- though what he begged for, he didn't know. Perhaps to come closer, or maybe just to go away. He grabbed Jack's arm, lowering it to his side, and didn't miss how his elbow bent, allowing pointed fingers to brush the delicate skin possessively, as if to say, it was his. He didn't want anyone taking his disease, his affliction was his own. His problems were his own. And the mark, foreign and strange, was one that told him what was his was no longer in his control. The mark said, that is the spot where we will hurt you. That is the spot where you're well being is going to be shattered. And though it was far from being any of those things, it was what flickered across the cerulean iris', an what Jack was begging Bunny to keep from happening.

"We'll all come back in'n hour. North should be done by then, an' we need ta' get started near'ta now." A single, awkward pat to the hand, the most contact he would allow, and nothing that would transfer emotion, good or bad. "Try ta get least an hours shut eye." That wouldn't happen. They both new it. He just felt it appropriate for the situation.

And then with that, he turned and left. And until he was outside, the door closed with a muted click, he did not allow his long ears to droop and lay flat against the back of his head, eyes squeezing closed.

* * *

The paint burned. Jack shuddered and lay back as far as he could into the pillow. It burned through his skin and bone and blood. There was a tickle in his chest, saying a cough was coming, but he somehow controlled it and kept it down. He didn't want to feel pain anymore. He was done with blood and hurt and fear.

And yet, there was the mark on his side. Telling him, in the bluntest of manners, that he was not done.

The paint was not yet dry, and he could feel the chill against his own fevered body. And yet, somehow, it still found ways to soak through his skin and burn. Jack Frost was terrified. Of what, he didn't know. He'd already experienced death, so a second encounter was not a horrific concept. He didn't like blood, and the sight of his own was more than unnerving. But not what made the shivers of fear tickle up and down his spine.

Perhaps it was the fact, yes, it was the fact, that his own family was about to hurt him. He had saved Bunny, and now got nary a look from him. Just a quick talk of how they were going to hurt him. He protected Bunny with the terrible, awful idea plaguing him, that the rabbit would be fine. Then that idea shifted into they would both be fine. And then, as time moved by rather quickly, he was startled to find that maybe he wouldn't. It had been a risk not sat upon when he'd first saved his friend, but one he later realized to be all quite real. And even then, he had not been scared. It had been coming back, back to the hurt and pain, which scared him more.

He was scared he had come back, and would leave again. How much more could he allow others to see him die? That was what scared Jack Frost the most. That he would die a horrible, painful death... and that his family would have to watch him leave.

* * *

**That's all for now, folks! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again to mjbeirman whose medical advice not only helped for this chapter (she was the one to come up with the brilliant ball-pump idea) but will also be coming in handy for the next few chapters! She's an amazing beta who puts up with me! And for that she gets extra awesomeness points.  
**

**Thanks girl!**

**If you haven't read her stuff, pop over to her page and check it out. It's amazing. I cry almost every time!**

**Next update will be soon! I'll also be working on all of my other stories which are long overdue for some updates as well as working on my own birthday present to you. Call it a goody-bag because I can't hold a giant fanfic-er birthday bash, so that'll have to do.**

**Ciao for now!**

**~Gal**


	17. Surgery: Jack's Healing

**Okay guys. Here is part five to the arc. I honestly dont think that there will be more than two more pieces. But right now I'm planning on just wrapping up the arc in the next chapter. I have a few other ideas in my head, one shots only, that I really want to get out there. Sorry these are taking so long... It's the new semester to the year, 12th grade, and the teachers are making up for lost time before the end of the year. So... Yeah. Lots of homework.**

**The next chapter is going to be a request filled! I'm going to suprise you by telling you who it is next. Though, from the looks of it, many wanna see drunk Jack... so maybe I'll just go with that. **

**Please read and review! Thanks to my amazing beta mjbaerman. You're amazing.**

**And thanks to all my faboo reviewers. Without you, there would be no story.**

**~Gal.**

* * *

How North did it, Bunny would never know. But he was dealing with the worlds greatest toy maker, wasn't he? So it shouldn't have surprised him what the man was capable of. And yet, it did. Maybe it was the fact that not only had North created a toy, but the fact that he'd reconfigured it and turned it into a fully operational medical instrument. That had to be it.

"You like, no?" The Russian held up the ball pump, now connected to some sort of metal box. Little lights and dials adorned it's silver surface. Connecting from the top, where the nozzle of a pump must have gone at one time, a new tube branched out. Black, made from thick rubber, it's slithered downward towards the ground. A needle, capped with plastic, winked at him. Bunny shivered.

"Yeh. Real good, North. Ya did good."

"B'lieve me, I do know dis." The man flashed him a proud, shaky smile. "You ask for machine, I give machine."

"Does it work."

"It should." He shifted. "Though there are no willing subjects, so to truly test will be to preform operation."

On any other day Bunny, control freak and perfectionist, would have argued until his face turned blue. But today was no day for pointing out errors, nor was it a day for time to go wasted, so he nodded. "No. Your right. And we gotta get that thing done soon, else we ain't gonna have a test subject." North's head bobbed gravely. "Tooth is already gettin' ready."

"Tooth is helping?" The Cossack looked alarmed as he placed the machine on a table beside him, stroking his beard worriedly.

"Course!" The Pooka waved him off, leaning against the wall, "Ya might not realize it, but the Sheila's better then anyone ta' deal with blood. She's round it every day, an' is a whole lot better off then Sandy 'r you when it comes to see'in lots of it."

"I don't like blood."

"I don't think she does either, but at least she wont faint."

North spluttered, then gave in, arms falling to his sides. "Fine fine. So I sensitive. Eet good thing."

"Sure it is." And though the situation taking place was hardly a light one, Bunny allowed a small smile to spread on his face. It lingered for a few seconds, but faded quickly. "North..."

North hummed, checking the machine once again, "Ya gotta listen ta' me on this one. I already briefed Tooth on it. An' Sandy." He took a deep breath. "No connection with him, right?"

North looked up. "Vhat do you-"

"When the surgery is in progress there is to be _no_ connection's ta' the kid. He's a stranger, as far's I'm concerned."

"...Vhy?"

"Personal connection." The man gave him a look. Bunny sighed. "If the kid cried out, first reaction's ta' turn off the machine or 'least help 'im. Ya gotta understand... we are helpin'. But the only way we can is by-"

"Keeping a distance." North gritted his teeth, hissing, "Ah."

"Zactly."

"I understand."

"Thought you would." The Rabbit's eyes wandered to the machine, taking in it's cruel qualities and perfect craftsmanship. "Right. Lets get this going. Sooner we do, sooner Jack'll be better." And the sooner he could repair their wavering relationship.

* * *

Jack shuddered for the hundredth time, watching as the Guardian's filed into his room. Silently, as though mourners in a procession, they went about their own duties. Tooth shutting the windows, the wind having picked up speed outside. Sandy taking jars from the shelves around the room, opening a few occasionally and poking at whatever was inside, then screwing the lid on once again. Apparently he'd been looking for something specific. And then there was Bunny and North. The two of them made their way to the corner of the room. Bunny was bend over, the notches of his spine facing the boy, and Jack made to count every one of them to help the anxiety. North's own form was tense, his coat matted and wrinkled from hours of bending over a bench, and his white hair tangled. Occasionally they'd turn around and look at Jack, then turn back and say something else. Their voices too low to hear, but the tone obviously hinting at some sort of serious discussion. An argument maybe. They always argued.

North had already placed the makeshift machine next to the bed. For a few moments Jack stared at that, tearing his eyes away from the others. They weren't looking at him anyway. In fact, they seemed to be avoiding his gaze at all costs. A few more seconds and he'd had to look away from the strange contraption. It was scaring him, gleaming under ceiling lights.

The atmosphere was dense, thick, frighting. His thin fingers tied themselves to the sheets under him, a thin layer of frost settling on the places he touched. Though the simple act was comforting, it sapped him quickly of energy, and the frost melted after it's brief creation, leaving wet blotches on the white surface.

He didn't have to wait like that longer. Because as much as the silence was everlasting, it had to end at some point. And when it did it was obvious.

Tooth, the first to begin it all with a look from Bunny and a nod from North, flitted to Jack's side. Carefully removing the pillow from behind Jack's head, briefly smoothed down his hair and gave him an encouraging smile.

"Are you comfortable, Sweet Tooth?" Her voice was soft, and Jack was sure she knew the real answer. So instead, he offered her a tentative smile, but even his lips seemed to be quivering. "Hey, you'll be fine. It will be over before you know it... I promise." Her tiny fingers lingered over his scalp for a moment, and he relished in the touch. But it was gone just as quickly, and he was left lying flat on the starched sheets.

He could see Bunny in the corner of the room, his back to the bed and briefing North on something he couldn't hear. Most likely asking about the machine; how he had made it, what would happen, what to expect. Sandy hovered above him, the jar he'd finally found in hand, lacing some kind of gel with dream sand until it began to shimmer under the bright lights. It tingled when it was smeared on the paint mark that now seemed to be permanently affixed to his skin. He could feel it there, burning. Or maybe that was the gel, tingling ever so slightly. He furrowed his brow against the feeling and a few pictures presented themselves over the Sandman's head. A band-aid, an ice cube and then the Sandman himself. It took Jack a moment to understand.

"Numb...?" he croaked out his guess. He received a smile and a little nod. So... apparently dream sand was in anesthetic. Good to know. "...thank you..." he whispered. Another thumbs up.

"Right," the heavy voice made him wince. And he wanted nothing more than to run and hide as Bunny's form was at his side in a second. North bending down beside the machine, watching numbers and fiddling with screws and bolts. There was a tube in Bunny's paw and the large needle winked at Jack, teasing him. He suddenly didn't feel so good.

"Ok, Fro- Jack. What yer gonna do is take a deep breath, an' hold it. Need yer lungs inflated. We're gonna practice real quick." His eyes stayed on North, and Jack immanently recognized which Aster he was dealing with. Gone were the images of a fluffy bunny, a friend he could tease, a target, a brother. Who stood before him now was a serious warrior focused on a single task. If there was any sympathy, any kind of comfort, it was buried beneath the essential.

Jack gripped the sheets to keep his hands from shaking.

"Ok Jack, righ' now. Deep breath." He did so, feeling the cruel burning of his broken body protesting. "Good, now hold it." Oh Gods, he couldn't do that. It hurt like all blazes. And as soon as air was cut off by his own will, he needed it back. He had to breathe. But he held it anyway, only listening to North's thick voice as he watched the clock and counted off the seconds. "... seex, seven, eight, nine..." At ten he was told to breathe again, and he did without any complaints, gasping hurriedly for any air he could find.

"Good. North, we gotta get this done now." And then Bunny was at his side, paw on his upper arm, forcing it to lie near the headboard, stretching the skin along his side, the needle at the ready. Tooth beside him, rags in hand. Gone was the kindness in her own eyes. All eyes on North, none on him. And once more in his life, Jack felt truly invisible. And he was afraid.

"Ok… geeve minute…" North adjusted one last dial, large brows furrowed down, shadowing his eyes. "Ok… go now."

Tooth's small fingers stretched his skin further, and he felt her fingernails cold against his ribs. "When I say breathe, Jack, I need you to breathe. Just like you practiced with Aster." So they were all formal now, no amount of familiarity in names seemed to be allowed. "Breathe."

Jack was absolutely terrified, and the first breath he took was a little more than a gasp that deflated itself in a second. "Try one more time, Jack," harsh words from Tooth were rare and when presented were truly frighting. "Right now, one last time. Breathe."

And that time he managed to take a large breath.

Something pricked his skin. He could feel it, like a small point of pressure. And then there was pain as whatever it was slid itself through skin and muscle. Burning, cutting, strange and foreign and he wanted nothing more than to cry out. Apparently dream sand only went so far.

"Keep holdin', Jack," Bunny, from above him, staring at his paws inserting the instrument. "Keep holdin'."

"We should hear something soon," Tooth murmured, towels pushed against white skin. "Listen for it, that's how you'll know."

"Is 'er blood yet?"

Through the pain, Jack felt something swipe at him. His chest burned for air, and the smallest of whines escaped through his teeth.

"Hold, Jack."

"No more than expected." That was Tooth. "Just listen for the noise. Then we can see."

It felt like hours, though really it must have only been a few more seconds, when there was a strange sort of hissss from the machine to the right. And inside of Jack's chest, something pushed against the space under his ribs and then something else seemed to pop.

"There we go!" North's happy bellow. "Machine ees working fine! Hear dat? Air is draining!"

"Ok, Jack. Breathe." Who had said that, he wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. The sand seemed to be taking effect, numbing the area (and the huge needle embedded inside him felt like a mere presence, not so much a knife). So he finally allowed himself to breathe. His first exhale a strangled whine, panting for breath, closing his eyes to the world around him. Gulping in air quickly and feeling as that… thing… pulled at his insides as he did so.

The people above and around him did little more than hush their voices. Bunny continued to poke and prod Jack's skin.

"When would we know if somet'in was wrong?"

"Very soon." Tooth grabbed the towel. "This'd be taking out air, the book said. If there was anything else, it'd show."

"Would it leak?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He was an experiment. That's all he was. Invisible to everyone around him. Again. He held back a sob, and soon wasn't able to tell if he was sweating from the mere effort of holding on, or silently crying.

He should have stayed with his sister. The selfish thought popped into Jack's head for the first time since he'd died a few hours ago. If he had stayed with her, nothing like this would have happened. He could have been happy. He could have been safe, and warm and loved. They would have sat by the lake forever, just the two of them, and played hopscotch. If there had been seasons in that strange oasis he would have gotten her skating again. Had she skated again? Had she ever even dared to step out onto the ice? He should have stayed and asked her and taught her how.

The mere thought of his sister sent warm waves down him, the comfort he was not being allowed. Pillows taken away, cold hands on his skin, words directed elsewhere. The warm, warm blanket that seemed to cover him once more. His dark brow scrunched. The warmth was familiar. And as soon as that thought, familiar, popped into his head, the warmth didn't seem so comforting anymore. He could feel the warm oozing down, trickling. Waited for the chaos to ensue for a second time. But none came. Instead, he was placed under the heavy silence of muffled talking and invisibility.

"Bleeding again," the towel was at his side.

"Lungs'r fillin' up," paws grabbed the opposite shoulder, "Tooth, you make th' incision, I'll roll 'im over."

"North, can you pass me the… what is that? Yeah… that knife, the smaller one," an exchange occurred, though Jack couldn't see it through his closed eyes.

"Jack," Bunny was speaking again through the fog. Something was pricking at his side in a straight line. He could feel it, his skin being forcibly torn. "When she's done, I'm gonna roll ya over. Yer gonna stay like that fer a few hours, just ta drain out all the blood. Then after that, yer okay." He didn't feel okay.

In fact… he didn't feel okay at all.

The bleeding had increased. Peeking an eye open he saw blood, his blood, coating the towels beneath him, sticking to the feathers on Tooth's hands and arms and gleaming on the silver kitchen knife they had used. This ended quick enough, as he was rolled onto his side. The needle in him shifted and he groaned. It was hard to breathe, and consistently getting harder.

The towels were replaced. The new ones turned red just as fast.

"North, ya gotta monitor the machine. Make sure it keeps drainin' air."

"I'm going to go wash up," And though the statement was light, her voice was not. "I don't want all the blood on me when we help him later." Him. Him. _Him_.

Say my _name_! He wanted to shout. Frostbite, Snowflake, Jackie, anything! Just please, no more "him".

"Go do that. Sandy, can ya watch 'im for a minute? Thanks. Don't let 'im fall 'sleep."

Sandy must have signed the affirmative, because soon even the paws were gone, and he was left in the silence, lying on the blood soaked towels, wishing for something, though what that was he did not know.

Sandy's face came into view, grinning sympathetically. He reached out and tapped Jack's nose with his finger twice. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but the Sandman just shook his head. No talking. Instead, he formed a few signs, slowly, over his small peaks of hair.

A plus sign.

A group of people, them by the looks of it.

A clock.

A snowflake.

A happy face.

He repeated them, over and over and over again. Assuring himself that Jack had gotten the message. Maybe it was the fact that the Guardian of Dreams didn't talk. Or maybe it was the fact that he was the wisest, it would seem, out of all of them. But somehow, he just knew how Jack felt from the way he looked.

We're going to take care of you, and in time you're going to be okay.

That must have been what it meant. At Jack's smile, Sandy started up a new line of dream sand.

A rabbit.

An egg.

A plus sign (that must have meant health, Jack decided).

A sad face.

A heart.

And then, finally, a taller figure and a shorter figure, standing side by side with their hands entwined.

And though he certainly didn't feel like it, he figured that maybe Sandy was right. Sandy was always right. Bunny cared about him. A lot. And was just scared for his own wellbeing. So his health came first, and then his affection would come second. But from the way the Golden man seemed to voice it, the two couldn't coincide. And Jack's health had won over.

"O…k…." was the most he could croak, before his throat refused to mutter anymore.

He was given a nod.

In the background, North, still fiddling with buttons, gave Jack a warm smile. "Do not worry yourself, my friend. Tooth and Bunny… they can be harsh, no? But they are just needing you better. Jus' be ready for Tooth to mu-der you until dee end of time. She can be much maternal at time."

Jack tried to chuckle, but it came out as a wheeze. North still got the idea. "You are very brave, you know dat, Jack?"

"…stup-i-i-d…"

"Yes!" North's booming laugh hurt his head, but did something for his spirit. "Yes, sometime you are! But today… deed you have to come back?"

Jack was silent, staring at North and hoping that was enough of an answer.

"Ah… so you had choice." North nodded. "Very brave, Jack. Very, very brave." Blue eyes met blue, North turning away completely from the contraption for a moment. "You know dat we do care, Jack. More den I t'ink you will ever know. And we are all very grateful… and honored –though goodness knows we hardly deserved eet- that you chose us. To come back to us." Getting up, he walked across the room and kneeled next to the bed, placing his large hand on Jack's shoulder, his other hand busying itself by adjusting the now red tendrilled towels. "Very grateful. I only weesh we could give back to you vhat you gave to us."

Didn't North know that simply by being there was enough? Didn't they know that he was, contrary to their belief, grateful for them? Didn't any of them realize that? And yet, somehow, they all had it in their minds it was always the other way around. Without them, he'd still be alone. Without them, right now, he'd have been dead.

He mentally shrugged, too tired to go very much deeper into the topic. Instead, he allowed himself to breathe, feeling as his lungs were once more tugged by the needle, the hissing increasing when he did.

He wasn't quite sure if he was happy yet. Far from it. But with at least one tiny piece of attention, he was farther from unhappy than he'd been a few seconds earlier.

* * *

The first thing Bunny did, when he had left the room and cleaned the blood off his hands, was stare into the pink water in the basin. And after a suitable amount of time staring at pink water, water stained by Jack's blood, blood drawn at his own hands... he got a drink. One from North's personal supply. A burn-your-stomach kind of drink. The kind that event he heaviest of drinkers dont dare touch. But at that moment, Russian vodka was exactly the remedy for the image of pink water.

He knocked back a single shot, grimacing as the stale taste took away his ability to breath, and then as his eyes teared his vision went too. He wondered briefly if that's how Jack felt, void of all senses as he lost everything around him. And that thought only made him take a second shot.

Bunny shook his head. He'd have to check on Jack soon, and being tipsy was not the way to go. Sighing, he replaced the bottle from where it had stood, inside of the closet in North's study. The other bottles, god knows how many (how much did the man drink!?) winked at him, telling him to take them with him. If he did get drunk, maybe then all his problems would go away. His paw shook and he reached for the nearest bottle, the one just put back.

"Bunny?" He spun on his heel, facing Tooth. Her head tilted, feathers quivering under the breeze caused by her wings, she stared at him curiously. "Are you okay...?"

"Fine." He'd said that far too quickly.

"... I just checked on Jack." His back went ridgid, ready to hear something bad. They hadn't really known what they were doing. There was only so much that books could teach after all. And what if that machine, that blasted never tested before machine, hadn't worked. What then. What if- "He's doing fine."

A breathe Bunny hadn't known he'd been holding rushed from his body, and he slumped. "He's fine..."

"Yeah. The draining went well, we can get him cleaned up a bit. At least until tomorrow. You're fine to do sponge baths?"

"Yes..." He was fine with anything at this point. Jack was fine. That was the best news he'd heard in weeks.

"Good." She backed up, wings buzzing, "So. You gonna help me, or are you going to just drink your heart out. Alcohol is _terrible _for your teeth, you know."

The look on Aster's face was nothing short of guilt.

* * *

It had taken four hours to drain every drop of blood that had once occupied his lungs out. But eventually the stream of red did subside. And when it did Tooth and Bunny were once more at his side and gone to work. Aster's strong grip keeping him in place, though Jack was hardly going anywhere, and Tooth's nimble fingers quickly sewing the clean incision on his side. The tube was kept in place and would be for a few more days, giving his lungs proper time to heal on their own, but giving him some way of breathing.

"The scar wont be too visible," Tooth traced her work, checking for imperfections in the stitching, "especially against your skin."

Jack didn't answer. Not that he could. His throat hurt. Instead he offered her a weak nod, head lolling toward his chest.

"Stitches are good."

He was lowered back toward the pillows, the rest of his body quickly checked over once more by capable paws. "Everythin' else looks good." Bunny nodded, and then for the first time in a very long time he looked right at Jack and gave a smile. "Look at that, Frosty. Yer gonna be righ' as rain, ya are."

The look had been all Jack had needed. Craved for what seemed to be forever, the slightest bit of interaction, recognition. And now that the worst was over, he was being rewarded with just that. He mirrored Bunny's own grin, a shakier and more tired version, his lashes batting as natural sleep began to work it's way over his body. "Y-yea..."

Bunny chuckled, pulling the covers up and lightly tucking Jack in. "Ya feelin' any better?"

"I... c'n breath..."

"That's definitely an improvement."

"Shadd'up."

A paw ruffled his hair, teasingly. "Even like this, ya find a way ta get under my skin, don't ya?"

"...my... job..."

Bunny smiled, tapping his nose against the boys temple. The smell of blood still lingered over his body, and his temperature, though it did seem to have dropped a tad, was in need of a good boot down. But other then that Jack was fine. He was fine and he was going to be fine. They had done it. And though recovery would take a while, and he couldn't wait to have to deal with the temper tantrums that plagued his future, he was happy to accept it all.

"And you," he brushed a paw over Jack's ivory hair, "are my job. An' trust me when I say it's a good deal harder then yers."

Jack's final statement before he passed out was something that sounded like "no it's not". Always stubborn. That was Jack's greatest gift. His ability to never, ever shift character. And though it drove him up the wall, it wasn't something Bunny would change in a million years.

* * *

**Here's another oneshot idea, guys. What if Tooth checks the Guardian's teeth once a year. Like a dentist appointment. I mean... she'd have to... right? So at their next meeting, when Jack is asked "what day he'd like for the appointment" there's gonna have to be some explaining as to what this dreaded appointment is. Honestly, what kind likes to go to the dentist?**

**Thanks for reading! Sorry if some of this is a little rushed. I'm getting back to work on my newone shot _masterpiece_. It's going to be a surprise. So... stay tuned! My birthday is this coming Monday! And this is my present to you! So much angst and fluff! Love that stuff!**


	18. A Better Place

**I know this was supposed to be out Monday, on my Birthday, but let me explain. My Grandmother got sick on that friday (the 22nd I believe) so it's been a little hectic here. She's fine and healthy now, so it's going to just be about caring for her now. Anyway, that is why this wasn't out sooner.**

**Speaking of this, IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY! Woo! 18 years old! I feel like a woman! No... actually I feel totally the same... weird. Well, except for the fact that now I have my own computer. Sweet! It's making writing these so much easier! Awesomeness.**

**Anyway, very quickly, I made this extra long to apologize. Exactly 12,000 words. I think this might actually be my longest one yet. This was an idea that I had a while back and have been writing for a bit. Actually, I started making the idea for this around the same time I wrote "Acorn Eyes" (which is still a crowd pleaser) but I didn't get to finish until now! IDK, I was in an angsty, brother fluff mood.**

**I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter. And just to let you know that after the next chapter (the last part of the Jack Dies arc) I will be returning to answering requests! So anyone who gave me a request a while back, yours could be next! Look out!**

**Now, without further ado, here is my birthday goody-bag to you! Happy birthday to me! Lots of angst ahoy. Girls, grab your tissues, men get your sleeves. It's bout to get sad up in here!**

**A quick note. This was not beta-d. But thanks anyway to my amazing beta who supported me on this idea! Mjbaerman, you rock my socks!**

**This chapter is brought to you by my extreme dislike of the phrase that's said during funerals, "Don't worry. They're in a better place" and the irony of the phrase when it involves this movie. Love me some irony. And coffee. Love that too.**

**~Gal**

* * *

o0o

_Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten._

~David Ogden Stiers

o0o

* * *

Weather, Jack had decided long into his existence, was a fickle thing. It never agreed with what it should be agreeing with, and when it did it made things worse. The funeral always had to be sunny when it should have rained, blaring down happily from a cloudless sky. And when the rain came during the trek towards permanent rest, those who had lost felt as if they'd lost more.

Snow wasn't like that. Snow gave people something to believe in. That there was still beauty in the world. And when he saw these sad processions moving past him, people draped in black as if the very shadows were trying to seep into their bodies, he made it snow. Miracles of light flurries in Texas over graveyards, the cathedral in Italy suddenly frosted in white, soft flakes etched into stained glass. Temples, opening their doors, greeted with light fall of crystals. And the tombstones dusted until they glittered.

He hated people being sad. Could hardly bear it. So whatever the weather was, he attempted to but in and make it agree to what they needed to feel.

Jack had done this since he had been reborn. And it always, _always _worked…

Except for that one, single time.

He'd never really forget it. Not even as he dreamed of dolphins and little girls with skates. That one time he'd seen a group of mourners and tried, _tried_, to do something. And by the end had been left so utterly confused.

For one thing, it rained. And no matter what it did, no matter how much he'd made it snow, the rain stayed rain, stubborn and unwilling to shift, as if to say that it _was_ time for rain to take place.

And it didn't just rain. It rained _hard_.

He'd never forget…

It was raining that day, despite the snowfall they'd had earlier. Thick shrouds covered the ground in piles, chilling the dead leaves and freezing earth beneath it. As the water from above fell it seemed to dig its way through the white piles, bouncing off and freezing automatically.

It should have frozen long ago- rain wasn't supposed to fall when the temperatures swan dived to the negatives. And yet, by some strange miracle, the water dripped lazily from the sky, avoiding the touch winter was trying so hard to instill upon it. Coating the trees, the houses, the unlucky birds who hadn't quite found shelter, and onto the small procession that stood in a clumped circle, feeding off each others warmth and shivering under torn shawls and fading scarves.

In the distance a young boy, just turned seventeen, watched the small crowd from between a clump of skinny birch. His toes balanced on the curve of his shepherds staff, arms crossed his chest. His hair, which would usually have looked much more windswept, was plastered to his skull. He sniffed indignantly, wiping the water off his face. The water that was refusing to freeze. He hated water.

Wiping his face again with a pale hand, he flicked drops off his fingers and hair, a scowl twisting his features. Then his attention went back to the small group. He'd been watching them for a while now, ever since they'd left the small building. And the man who stood before them was still leading them everywhere.

Jack didn't much like that man.

He was tiny. A shrimp. With tiny, shrimpy arms and tiny shrimpy legs. His tiny shrimpy torso didn't fill out the black robe he wore and his tiny shrimpy head was too small for the round spectacles that adorned his face and tangled into what little white hair he had left. His voice, however, was not tiny, nor was it shrimpy. And that made Jack hate him more. Stupid tiny shrimpy man with the big voice. What made _him_ think he was so important. All day he'd done nothing but _lead_ these people.

He'd lead them out of the tiny building, the one with the long seats and yellowing books, toward the lake Jack had found to be a good home –how dare they come to _his_ home uninvited- and then had ventured to this place. A tiny patch of land dabbled with carved stones. And then he'd spoken to them with his not so tiny, shrimpy voice. And with that not so tiny, shrimpy voice, he made them cry.

Maybe that's why Jack didn't much like Tiny Shrimpy man.

"The Lord giveth," the man said to the crowd, "the Lord taketh away." Hit tiny shrimpy fingers fiddled with the book in his hands, the edges crinkled from obvious use. "Blessed is the name of the Lord." There was some nodding and humming as the others in the group bobbed and agreed. "Praise be the Eternal Father." More bobbing. More humming. Jack snorted- they looked like pigeons.

Tiny Shrimpy Man closed the book with a light click, pocketing the small item, then folding his tiny, shrimpy hands in front neatly, his rod like body going strait. "Let us pray," Tiny Shrimpy Man said, "pray for the good of what we can hope is to come."

Jack hadn't taken much notice to each person individually. The throng of people wasn't anything to look at. Simple clothing that hardly looked warm enough for the rain and snow surrounding them, dirty faces and feet clad in chicken feed shoes. And most of them looked about the same. The men had beards, the woman wore dresses, and all of them stomped their feet from the chill, sounding much like a funeral march.

And then that one woman stepped forward. Not so much stepped as she did fall. The front of her dress sunk into the snow as she keeled forward, her knees burrowing through the ground and her head shaking in grief. Letting out mewls and small cries of despair, she shook and chattered as the rain around her fell. A small girl, barely nine by the look of her, went to the aid of the woman. The girls eyes were misted, but by her posture it didn't seem as if she would be crying. Much like she had used up all her tears, and this was what was left. Tiny hands, bound by mittens, attempted to ensnare the woman in a hug, but barely reached across her back.

"Mommy," the girl said, "mommy." And that was all she could say. Because what else could be said?

Tiny Shrimpy Man, who Jack was beginning to hate more and more by the minute, went to console the woman as well. Moving the daughter away he pulled the woman to her feet, grabbing her rough, calloused hands in his own gloved, tiny, shrimpy ones.

"Mrs. Overland, please," Tiny Shrimpy Man lead her towards the stone that looked the newest. "I want you to look at your son. Look at where he is now."

Though her tears flowed just as freely as the rain, the woman stiffened. Back growing ridged, like a cat on edge, she tried a glare. "That's not where he is." She pointed off into the distance. "He's still in a lake. He's in the bottom of a lake, and he'll stay in the bottom of the lake." She sniffed, wiping the rain from where it clumped in pearls on her lashes, "And no one's getting him out."

"We cannot risk anyone to retrieve a, excuse me, dead boy."

The woman bristled, "That _boy_ is my _son_!"

"And he was a fine boy. Truly. But we must leave what has happened in the past. There is nothing to be done now but take comfort-"

"Comfort!" She was shushed by Tiny Shrimpy Man, but didn't lower her voice to console him, instead raising it, "There is not comfort to be taken!"

Jack hopped off his staff, snatching it before it fell, and making his way through the snow, quickly turning into slush. Twirling the wood he made his way toward the crowd, and the woman, raking a hand through his soaked hair, his cape now sticking to his back and melding to his form. If it wasn't for his unexplained gifts he would have been freezing.

No one saw him as he moved, like a specter, through the cracks in the crowd. No one felt as he brushed by, occasionally mussing someone's clothing or grazing their arm with the crook of his staff. Their only reactions were more shivers, earthquakes that roamed, from the tip of their head, through their feet and into the ground. The rain dipped off their noses and chins and the cupid bow of their lips. And though it looked like tears he was wise enough to know the difference.

No one was sad.

Well… No one but that woman.

Still standing tall, facing the Tiny Shrimpy Man, her own tears mixed with the falling water. Like thin, gossamer trails, they distinguished themselves by forming sad patterns down the lines in her face. And the girl, who'd moved toward her mother, held lines that should not have been in contact with a young girls face. Jack held his staff closer to his body. So close to so many people, all of whom could not see him, and soaked in the sad, lonely rain, he felt strangely out of place. As if he should have been somewhere else.

"Why aren't we having the funeral at the lake? Where his body is."

"Because, Mrs. Overland," Tiny Shrimpy Man had not let his voice waver, "this is traditional. We follow the rules set by these people around us," he swept his arm towards the others, letting the woman know exactly what he meant. Gesturing to the people covered in rain. Not tears. Just rain. Heads bobbing and humming as they agreed. Jack twitched away, ducking, not liking being the center of the crowd. Especially this one.

"At least he has a headstone," Tiny Shrimpy Man continued, "And at least I was here to bless him!"

"How dare you! I wouldn't have called you if anyone else was available!" The woman, her tears falling onto her open lips, shouted.

Tiny Shrimpy Man removed his spectacles, rubbing them onto his wet frock, the white collar shifting as his robes. It did nothing, only helping along in the blur they were producing, but he seemed to not notice as he tucked them behind his ears once more. "Mrs. Overland, please. This is not about us, this is about your son. Right now I am trying to help him on his way to the kingdom of heaven. If it weren't for me he might not be able to get there on his own. He was mislead in life, he'll be mislead afterwards."

Mrs. Overland, as Jack was quickly pinning her as, looked taken aback. Once more her mouth opened and closed, the lines on her face moving. She turned to the others for help, but all they did was bob and murmur.

"I mean," Tiny Shrimpy Man continued, obviously on some sort of roll, "your son was not exactly the most respectable of children."

"That's not true!" The little girl spoke up and Jack's blue eyes moved to face her. She was standing tall, arms crossed, her lip sticking out. "That isn't true! You can't say that about my brother! He was the best big brother ever! Ever, ever! And he saved me-"

"Saved you in a situation you should not have been in in the first place, young lady." Tiny Shrimpy Man sniffed, tugging his robes. "If he hadn't been acting out of stupidity nothing would have occurred. You were lucky to survive, my dear. Nothing but a miracle saved you."

"No! My brother did it!"

"Your brother was a foolish boy who couldn't obey a simple order." The way he said the words, as if it was law, brought something up in Jack he hadn't felt since rebirth. Anger. Strange, boiling anger. His knuckles, already white, bleached farther as his grip tightened. He moved forward, though it would do nothing, and stood by the crying woman, his face screwed up in fury. "If he'd followed the rules of the town, maybe even his own _common sense_, you'd have both lived to tell the tale."

"Shut up!" Her tiny face was red, from the cold and the fire quickly making its way through her veins. "Shut up!"

"Young lady, I shall not shut up, nor shall you make me. There is no such thing as a silent priest. Especially when his duty is to save the one you speak of." He sniffed again, feeling as if he'd won a battle, and adjusted the hem of his robe, the black garment ruffling much like a chicken preening its coat. "Now, if I may suggest it, pray for you brother. He shall sorely need it when his time of judgment comes."

The woman's response was more distressed weeping. Her cries were almost silent, save for a few choked sobs and rumbles deep within her chest. Jack moved forward, his palm flat and shaking, the only intent to place it against her back and try, _try, _to let her know that she wasn't alone. She didn't have to be alone.

Tiny Shrimpy Man beat him to it.

Placing one of his tiny shrimpy hands against her quivering spine, the knuckles vibrating with her uneven breaths, he bent forward.

"Mrs. Overland, please try not to despair." His hand patted her back twice -_thump thump_- and then retreated towards its masters side, obviously tracing the square bulge that was his bible, "Your son… he will be in a better place." And then, with even more hesitation. "He is in a better place."

The congregation bobbed their heads and nodded.

It would be another five minutes of praying, lead still by Tiny Shrimpy Man. The woman wouldn't get up. She stayed in her place on the ground, the rain soaking further into her clothing and face, filling the lines and cracks that took up residence their. Jack and the little girl stayed by her. But while Jack spent the time glaring that the priest the little girl simple held herself high. She seemed to do that a lot. Hold herself as if she knew what she was living for.

And after those five minutes the crowd left, lead by the Tiny Shrimpy Man, and wandered away down the muddy path until finally the rain, like a velvet curtain, closed on them. And they were gone- black shrouds and all.

The woman stayed.

The little girl watched her mother for another moment, not quite sure what to do. And when it seemed as if there wasn't anything left to do she turned and walked in the other direction. Jack, picking up his staff and sparing the woman another look, followed.

The little girl didn't have far to go, walking towards the lake. And when she did reach it she sat on it's bank, the back of her dress taking in mud and small leaves and bits of ice, and stared at the water. And for a while, after discovering that she wasn't going to do anything, he left. There wasn't anything else for him, after all. He'd seen these things before. Death, he knew, was something that happened often, and he had no control over it. So while it hurt, it wasn't something he could worry too much about.

But somehow, this funeral, this single one, hurt more than the others. The lack of care, the spiteful words, the unnamed boy and the empty grave. He had felt out of place and angry.

And then that one line that had been said. That single line that somehow shook him to his very core;

_He is in a better place._

Jack shook his head. It wasn't anything he had to worry about. And so he tried not to. And for the longest time, he succeeded.

It wouldn't be until he received his memories, all of them in whole, that he would discover the funeral to be his own. The Tiny Shrimpy Man had been Father Brown, a man he hardly liked during his mortal life. The congregation, his neighbors, many of whom had disliked Jack for his antics and the situations he dragged their children into. The gravestone, small and worn, was what represented where he should have been, the lake where he still would be. And that woman, the distressed woman with the sad lines and the wet dress, had been his mother. His very own mother.

And his sister…

After he'd found out he'd stayed to himself, hiding away at the lake for a few days and staring into the open, murky waters. Thoughts wandered to where his gravestone was now. Most likely worn to a nub by all the elements passing by. Where he was supposed to have been right now, but wasn't. Why wasn't he?

And those lines.

_He is in a better place._

Maybe that was the reason that he avoided the Guardians for those few days. Those six simple words that pounded into his brain with the strength of ten hammers.

Better places were supposed to be… better. He'd imagined them as wide expanses of clouds, endless snowball fights, recognition that you were real, you were _there_. Warmth and love and strange happiness that can never be described. The idea that you were part of something and someone. That you were close to others, watching others, never alone unless you desired to be. Better places were places he could look at and say yes… that is better.

Better places were _home_.

Jack Frost had not been sent to a better place. And that's what hurt so much.

Better places were not solitude. They were not being walked through, stared through, lost and forgotten. They were not filled with beds made from tree limbs, houses made from here or there. They were not three hundred years of being simple placed on a shelf until you gathered dust, and they were not being crossed off and marked away.

Jack Frost had not been upset at the people. He had not been upset at the crowd or the priest. He had been upset at the promise he'd been given. Though a loose one, he had been _promised_ a better place. And even that had been to much.

The day that Jack Frost got his memories back, _really_ got his memories back, he stayed away from the Guardians because that's how he wanted to feel once more. He wanted to remember what it had been like to be alone, to be forgotten, to be stowed away. And at that time, still new to his new group, he needed to make sure he never forgot what it felt like. Because if they chose to once more pick him up and place him on that shelf he needed to be ready.

Jack Frost was not yet ready for happiness. Because Jack Frost had been deprived of what he felt had been rightly his. He'd been deprived of his better place. And even that simple request, much like answers from the moon, or a wave from a passing spirit, had been denied.

* * *

"Jack! My friend! So glad that you make it to meeting!" North's eyes taking in the quick extension of Jack's spine as he shot up in surprise, twinkled with merriment.

"Yeah, well these are kinda mandatory."

North's laugh was full and unashamed. "Dat dey are! Yes! J'you are right!"

"So, the thing fin'lly made it, did 'e?" Jack scowled at Bunny.

"For your information, _Kangaroo,_ I'm here all the time."

"Sure ya are."

"I am!"

"Jack! Bunny! Please!" The larger man crossed his beef arms, casting meaningful glasses towards the other two spirits. "We here to discuss _work_, not bicker like _deti_!"

Jack crossed his arms, glaring at the rabbit. "He started it."

"Oh my-" Bunny threw his hands into the air, "D'ya _see _wha' I have ta go through? Every day! Every blinken' day!"

"Dat because he knows how to hit you hard!" Jack smirked at North's comment, smirking.

"Not that it's hard to set him off. He's like an alarm clock."

"I heard that!"

The Russian sniggered, "Please! Let us just get to meeting, da?"

"Yea, sure." He raked a hand through his white hair. "Then I can tell you about how I iced Bunny's pink lake." Bunny grumbled something about delinquents and in the old days, flinching at North's belly aching response.

He laughed again, his belly jiggling. "And after you stay for dinner, no? Good time for tall tales, I t'ink."

They'd seen it before. Even Bunny, peeved as he was, noticed the sudden change and lost his tense stature, eyebrows rising in recognition. Like a spring loaded toy, Jack stiffened in a second, staff held tighter in taut fingers. "Cant. Not today."

"Cannot?" North's head tilted, the beard swishing along with the movement. "And why not?"

"Um…" a loud swallow, a subtle tug at the bottom of his hoodie, "I have plans today. Important plans."

The Russians eyes moved to a clock on the wall, mentally tracking the difference in zones with every skill he'd acquired over the years -Santa Clause, if anything, was known for his knowledge of time zones- and seemed to come to a conclusion in his head. "Jamie will be 'sleep now, yes? There is to be no snowball fight…"

"It's not with Jamie." And that was the que that told them _something_ was off. The boy was not one to share things easily. Maybe it was his own knowledge of it or simply part of who he was, but somehow he managed to tell them enough with actions and his schedule. And now, it was the schedule. When Jack went out it was for one of three things, and _only_ one of the three things.

a) He was going to start snow with or without the promise of a snow day.

b) He was going to visit Jamie (his first and most loyal believer.

c) He was angsty and needed, as they had decided to call it, "Jackie-Boy's Alone Time."

Not that they really preferred Jackie-Boy's Alone Time. What they would have preferred was for him to come and talk to them about whatever he was facing. Not that they'd ever say it out loud, but in all honesty it hurt. They all wanted Jack to talk to them about what he was facing, sure in every fiber of their bodies that if he just told them _something_, they could help. It was just a matter of getting Jack to talk- an almost impossible task in itself.

So open and carefree in spirit, the boy looked so approachable when his mind wasn't elsewhere. It was when he focused on one issue, one that it seemed he refused to burden others with, that he curled in. To get him to talk was a miracle. First, though, you had to convince him simply to do anything at all. Asking did nothing, Tooth had been the one to realize that. As soon as a question regarding him left your mouth he acted much like a cornered animal did- cowering, silent, scared, stubborn and ready to strike out.

They were helpless. At least when it came to Jack Frost.

And until he allowed them such, they would remain helpless.

So North, giving Bunny and look and receiving the same one back, nodded. "Da, fine, you leave after meeting."

Thin shoulders drooped in relief, obviously not wanting to explain anything to anyone and dreading the thought of doing so. "Not this time. Next time, maybe. But not this time." His thin fingers laced together and they watched as the turmoil that had just seconds adorned his features melted into a familiar mask. "So…?," he began, a twinkle in his eye, "We gonna start this meeting or what? I didn't get any sleep last night and this might just be the spot to catch up on some."

* * *

The meeting, as always, was rather uneventful. It was rare that anyone had anything truly groundbreaking to share, and lately, with the exception of North, they'd taken to simple saying things like _same old same old_ and _it's the same as it was last time_. North, as always, went into depth about it all. And Jack, true to his word, took that time to slump down and take a nap, Sandy sniggering silently at him whenever he twitched at North's loud voice.

Tooth glanced at Jack ever now and again. She looked ready to wake him up, ask him what was going on, but one look from Bunny and those thoughts vanished. They did not need to repeat what had happened before. The last thing they needed for what the child to run.

The meeting wrapped up as it generally did. North and Bunny bickering, Tooth giving orders, Sandy just drifting off and Jack just waking up -usually the fight of Easter vs. Christmas loud enough to rouse him from whatever sleeping state he was in. And after he'd rubbed what little gold sand had been caught in his lashes out of his eyes, Jack had bid them all farewell, gathering his staff in his hands and donning his blue, frosted hood.

"I guess I'll see you next meeting." That was what he usually said -of course usually he said it after dinner had finished and the bickering had come to an end. North flinched, the need to tell Jack to simply come back to the pole, come _home_, growing every time he saw the pale face. But the swordsman bit his tongue and nodded, the others following suit.

Satisfied that his departure was well known, Jack kicked up his heels and sped out the nearest open window, the ever obedient wind swirling around its master and toting him wherever he pleased. And all the group below could do was watch sadly; only stopping once a Yeti had seen the open window and closed it on his way down the hall.

* * *

The anniversary of his death, three hundred years exactly, was not something that Jack truly regarded as celebratory. Perhaps gaining his memories once again- but even those held better things to celebrate than this ever could. But Jack had planned this. And he was going to go through with it one way or another.

Glancing up at the sky he sighed once again in disappointment. Dark blue and cloudless. Though it may have been too much to hope for that strange rain to pay him a visit once again. That strange rain that didn't freeze when it touched him. It had, after all, only occurred once in his existence, and that had been the day of his funeral. Since then he'd never encountered an oddity quite like that one, so attempted to brush it off as nothing important.

He'd gained his memories back quite recently, courtesy of a certain tooth fairy, and through that the funeral he'd watched all those years ago, the one in the rain with the sobbing mother, had been his. His own funeral.

And he hadn't even known.

Thoughts of what would have happened if he had known. What would have happened if he had known that it had been his own funeral? Would he have tried to reach out? Let them know? Help?

He'd lived three hundred years, invisible, with no knowledge of family or love or death. And sometime in the beginning of those three centuries he had attended his own funeral. He had watched his mother fall to the ground in sorrow, watched the priest as he belittled his family, called him out, watched his little sister act as the only defense he had. He watched his gravestone placed on cold ground, watched the lake be left alone, watched as snow around them melted in the strange, alien rain.

He hadn't known. He just… hadn't known.

No. He wasn't celebrating his death.

Jack's toes touched the bitter ground below him, stared at the glacial lake in front of him, eyes sweeping over the small stones he had arranged in frost patterns on the ground. He'd stolen candles from North's office –the man still hadn't noticed, much to Jack's relief- and laid them circling the bank, stalks almost touching the ebb and flow of the rippling waters. All of them, lit and glowing, cast eerie halos on the sheen surface, illuminating his tiny alcove with tea-kettle comfort, warmth, familiarity, _hope_.

Jack bent to the ground, depositing his staff in the center of the display. Then with careful movements, draped his old brown cape, now a faded, Swiss cheese, sepia, over the thin wood. And then he backed away, admiring his work and the strange, melancholy feeling that bloomed inside him.

"We're here to remember a very important boy," his voice, without waver or hesitation, swayed and danced through the naked branches, the only audience there being the ghosts of the past, sylphs, invisibles that he imagined had been just like him- were just like him. And so he continued, hoping that somewhere, the person he longed to reach was present.

They weren't.

"We're here to remember a very important boy," Jack repeated, "and we're here to make sure his memory isn't invisible any more. Make sure that he isn't invisible any more." He swallowed. "Today, we're here to mourn for his death, celebrate his heroism and try to see him for who he really was."

Jack never been allowed a proper funeral. So now, despite the obvious lack of attendance, he was going to hold one. No one said they couldn't be done solo. He'd been alone then, it only made since that he'd be alone now. So that was what Jack planned to do. And as he lit another candle and spiraled frost across the fabric of the faded cape, he readied himself to once more allow invisibility to sink in.

No. Jack wasn't there to celebrate his death.

He was there to mourn it.

* * *

"I wanna know what's going on." Fists slammed onto the oak table, shaking its surface and leaving vibrations heating the air. "An' I think I'm gonna do wha' I have'ta ta know it."

Back at the pole Bunny had decided, somewhere between his first eggnog and second cookie, that he'd had enough.

"If the esky want's ta' be 'lone, then tha's fine with me. But at least 'ave 'im tell us wha' the hell is goin' on first."

"Bunny…" North took a slow swig of his own drink, the smell of vodka heavy in the cup, "ees very important that we not push Jack away. I am afraid dat eef we keep poking, he vill decide he 'as had 'nuff." Another long drink. "I am fearing-"

"Xactly!" Bunny stood, his tense spine cracking, "You're 'fraid! Well, guess wha' North. This kinda fear didn' get no one nowhere. An' I an't about to let it hold me back."

"I think I agree with North…" Tooth rose from her chair where she'd been fidgeting (sitting still had never been one of her specialties) and fluttered toward Bunny, delicate toes dragging through the air, wings slicing it. "I don't know how he'd respond."

"How would'dya know if you don' try!?"

"I have tried! Remember?" They all did.

One comment pushed too far, that was all it had taken. Jack had visited Tooth one afternoon, casually asking if he'd be allowed access to his memories. Though he'd been given them as a present from her, the box totally belonging to him and him alone, he felt it had been better to leave the fragile box where it was sure to be safe. She'd happily agreed.

And when he'd asked for a simple peek, leaving out the fact that he'd been having nightmares, traumatic relapses, twists in his memories and faces that had begun to fade. She'd been unaware of it all as the box was handed into his own cold grasp, frost quickly collecting on the metallic surface, gleaming in the pink light.

She hadn't let go.

The memories waved through the both of them far too quickly, releasing from the box too early and sending them both through thick water and cold silence. He'd ended the memory before anything else could be discovered, releasing the box and letting it clatter to the ground.

It might have just ended there. But Tooth had to ask. She just had to ask what had happened, if he was okay, who was that person who'd called his name? All of it foreign and strange to her, scary and foreboding. But Jack hadn't been ready for the prying, nor had be been prepared to share such personal things as memories with another person. And even if it had been an accident, and the fault was no ones, Jack had fled.

It had taken three weeks to find him, and by then he acted as if nothing had been wrong. Tooth had no reason to apologize or fuss, as he'd so casually said. He'd just needed to be alone.

He'd needed to be alone an awful lot.

Just like now. And Bunny, despite ever time that he'd fled and he'd had to be the one to track him out, was ready to end it all.

With a wave of his paw he stormed past the fairy, picking up his satchel that lay forgotten by a chair, "I don't care. The bugger's had a good talkin' ta on his agenda for a while now. Migh' as well be me who does it. 'Parently I'm the only one who will."

Snady was up in an instant, facing Bunny strait on. His tiny arms waved ferociously in the air in front of him.

_No. No. No. No. No._

"Move, Sandy."

Images, fleeting as they were, popped up over the golden man's head. Snowflakes, little girls, families, bodies of water, candles, headstones…

Sandy had always been the one to know the most. Dreams, though personal, were not protected, and could easily be looked in on. Sandy knew what was going on, yes. It all depended on the others, if they understood. They'd know not to intrude, not on the plans that had plagued Jack and his dreams for weeks.

They didn't.

He was easily walked around, the rabbit turning to face the wary group one last time.

"You'll see. I'll 'ave 'im back here, sure as my names E. Aster Bunnymund." His foot tapped twice on the workshop floor, and just like that he was gone.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound being a few elves in the back fighting over a cookie, the bells on their heads jingling with every movement.

"So…" Tooth flitted down, leaning on the table, "Should we follow."

North thought for a moment. "No." he shook his head. "You know Bunny and Jack. They'll do dis 'lone. Even if dis is bad idea." Another pause. "'is very bad idea." From his place in the air, Sandy nodded.

"Oh dear."

North grunted in agreement, then went to go pour himself another drink. If Bunny did keep his word and brought back an angsty hormonal teen, there was no doubt of it being a very long night.

* * *

Jack sniffled, knees drawing closer to his body and the rough sleeve of his hoodie grazing misting eyes.

He hadn't been able to do it.

Somehow, holding a ceremony for yourself wasn't as easy as he'd thought it to be. He wasn't sure what to say, how to feel, who to thank or call out to. He hadn't been sure if he was supposed to be sad, depressed, nostalgic. In the very beginning of everything, in the words he had planned out so carefully in his mind for so log, he'd broken. And in the middle of the ethereal light, Jack had fallen to his knees –a perfect image of his mother- and tried not to cry.

Right then and there, the young spirit looked like he would become invisible. As if, at any moment, he'd fade away into the background. Not even flickering candles, waving and ghosting over his elfish feature, could cast any amount of light on the boy. Once more he'd just be another silent force in the world with only evanescent sightings to prove that he might have been real.

And at that point it didn't look like he'd mind.

Small and silent, save the occasional, fugacious sniffle or hiccup, Jack frost sat on the bank of the same river he'd died in once, finally deciding exactly how he should feel. So he sat there, mourning.

He mourned the loss of his sister.

He mourned the loss of his memories, ones that he could now only see in amorphous playbacks through a golden box.

He mourned for the years he'd spent not doing anything.

He mourned the small facts of never knowing it had been _his_ funeral. If he'd known… maybe he would have mourned then. But he hadn't, so he didn't. And it was far too late for any of that.

But he didn't mourn for himself. He'd come to do just that, unsure of quite how he should do it, and in the process realized that he'd leave thinking the exact opposite. More than three hundred years had gone by, so why was he supposed to care? He couldn't turn back the clock, and he the others told him that Father Time wasn't truly the nicest of spirits, apparently a crotchety old geezer with a failing clock store when he'd been chosen. So there was no hope in asking him…

… and what would he ask him if he'd had the chance. _Please turn back the clock? Send me back to that day? Make me not have died. If you send me back, I'll keep it all from happening. I promise I'll keep it from happening. _

Then what?

And there lay the problem.

He could see it all so clearly… if he'd had another chance. When he'd resurfaced in life, telling his sister than they couldn't go skating that day, that they'd stay in. And the next day, checking the ice first instead of being so impulsive. He'd watch her grow up, see her children that he knows one day she'll have. He'd be part of something, a family. A _real_ family. One related to him by blood and skin. One that shared in his features, vestiges of Overland evident in even the most distant of members. Their life would be perfect, suffuse, tranquil. The moon would be just a moon, Santa and the Easter Bunny would come for his children, never to be seen by his own eyes, and the joy of hay pennies under pillows and sweet dreams atop them would be nothing involving a pesky spirit living in solitude.

There was the idea of death that haunted that happy thought. But only shadowing the edges, never blocking it out entirely. Death was natural. Much like a book closing, death was simply the final page finished. You either left satisfied knowing that the story was full and complete, the author knew what they were doing and the pages were, in the end, left worn, folded and well yellowed from use. Or you skipped forward, missing the best bits in order to reveal the ending far too quickly. Jack Frost, Jack Overland, there was no difference. Both had books that were fated to be written and one day finished. The length of the book was the only difference.

Oh yes. Jack Frost would die one day. Everyone died at one point or another. And if not die, then he'd simply fade away until nothing but wisps of memory lingered behind. What bothered him so much was not the looming fate of death. It was the pages that came before the end.

It was as if he had already lived a life. To not remember that, it was scary and at times sad.

But what if he got his wish. That would mean leaving the life he had now. Granted, it was a shaky one. Filled to the brim with unsure promises, hesitant reveals, strange and new emotions that he had to, on occasion, dare himself to discover. What they were to him, he still wasn't sure. Part of him wanted to badly to believe that it wasn't anything. That he was that toy on a shelf, plucked off only when he was needed. A nuisance and a bother. A nobody and certainly not their somebody.

And then that little voice in the back of his head, shouting at the top of its teeny tiny pitiful lungs, that maybe he was much more than that. Maybe there was a chance, the slightest chance, that he finally meant something. That he finally had something…

Jack sighed, slumping more on the ground, head still buried in his arms, hood pulled up to cover the back of his head. Another sniffle came out of him, but he stubbornly held it back. He would not cry over them, and he wouldn't cry over himself.

That was how Bunny found him. Amidst the fairy circle of candles, shivering on the ground, the pale light a ghost that stretched along water and land, and sliding down the arched back. He'd been ready to be mad. But looking again, the staff and cloak, the candles and the strange arrangement, he suddenly felt as if he was intruding on something far too personal.

He intruded anyway.

"Frostbite?" He wasn't angry anymore, and the words held no traces. It still scared the boy. Going rod strait, he was on his feet stumbling in moments, a pale hand raising in defense.

The he relaxed. "Bunny…? Wha…" blue eyes flickered over the candles, the shrine, and unnecessary guilt rushed over his face and dove into his eyes. "What are you doing her?"

Bunny shrugged, as if none of it shocked him. "Came lookin' fer you. Why else would I leave?" Another glance. "Wha' are you doing?"

"Nothing…"

"This," he swept his arm at it all, "ain't nothin', mate. C'mon. Tell me." Silence. Bunny huffed. "I came here ta' find out what's been up with you, Frosty. A'kay? I come here, thinkin' that yer off causin a ruckus, an I find… _this_. Nah, mate. You gotta tell me wha's goin on. There ain't no way outta this. Even if it means draggin' ya ta North's, I'll find out in the end." He crossed his broad arms. "Go on."

Jack swallowed. His Adams apple bobbed up and down the coulomb of his throat, fingers knitting together. "I was…" there was a pregnant pause, candles filling the cracks of silence with there eerie flicker. "Today… it's the anniversary of my… funeral." His cerulean orbs looked towards Bunny's now astonished face, searching for some kind of understanding in his explanation. "I didn't get a good funeral. I… I hadn't known it had been mine. So now that I… I mean, now that I remember…" he motioned to the candles. "I wanted a real funeral."

The silence that came afterwards was suffocating. Aster's own gaze, guilt, horror, amazement, and Jack's, pleading him to do something, _anything_. The two of them, crocheting together the story, stitching together the pieces until it finally clicked in the Pooka's mind. Why Jack's strange behavior, the early dismissal, the sadness and the loss. It all clicked.

He took a step forward. "You're holdin' it alone? Your funeral, I mean?" It was all he could think to say.

Jack nodded. "There wasn't anyone else."

"There was us."

Jack didn't answer.

Bunny understood why.

This was something he wasn't ready to share. His death, his life, the side he never wished them to see. It was something he felt he had to do alone, no matter how wrong that idea was.

"How was the first one?" A simple question, just to avoid the last.

"The preacher wasn't good. And… they didn't have a body. So they put my headstone over in the graveyard," he pointed through the trees, somewhere past the candles where Bunny couldn't see, "over there." Jack stared at the spot for a moment, lost in thought, then shook his head and allowed his feet to touch ground, reality sinking in once more.

"I was a trouble maker," he shrugged, "what else was there to say. The only people who missed me, my mother and my sister, they came. And the rest of the people…" he swallowed again. "It was just part of church service. They _had_ to be there."

"Frostbite…"

Jack shook his head. He didn't want the sympathy, nor did he want the interruption. The floodgates had been cracked, and now he was going to let what else he wanted trickle out. Taking a breath he turned out to look over candlelit waters, avoiding the Pooka's stare.

"They said that… that I wasn't good. Or something like that. And that he was there… that I was _lucky_ he was there, because without me, I wouldn't get to go to my… better place." The last part was said with a certain amount of acid.

Aster licked his lips, not quite sure how to respond. "That ain't true." He finally decided, "I mean… you went to a better place an'-"

"Oh yeah," a bitter laugh, one Bunny never thought he'd hear from Jack, echoed around the cove. "The place I went to was way better. Three hundred years alone and invisible and unloved and forgotten… it was a ton better!" Jack wiped his face, waiting for Bunny to say something. When he didn't, the younger continued. "I watched it all, Bunny. I watched it, and I didn't know who's it was or who they were or what they were doing! I didn't know… if I had known…" His chest pulsed, a strangled sob held by a thin leash. "I sometimes still wish I could go back," blue eyes met green eyes, the hurt that flashed evident. "I sometimes wish that I could just go back and stop it all from happening! I'd change! I would! And… and then I'd be a better person and people wouldn't hate me and… and I'd have a better place." His vision blurred, but this time he didn't try to stop it. "The man was right! I did deserve it… after all I did… I just… I-"

"No." Jack stared at Bunny, jumping.

"But-"

"Naw. No way, mate." He moved forward, slowly, trying not to scare the winter sprite away. "I don't buy it. You might have been annoyin', an trust me I know that. An' ya mighta' screwed up now an' 'gain. But we all do. An ta tell ya the truth, I think those people screwed up more then you ever could by sayin' all that stuff 'bout you."

"But… but I didn't know… Bunny, you should have heard it! If you had known me..."

"Don't have ta'." He moved closer, almost within arms reach, "I already know it an' you." Another step. "Wha' happened ta' ya' wasn't fair, Frosty. It wasn't fair. And if we had known… I'm tellin' ya that it might'a been better… but we didn't, an' that was out faults too. Our bloody faults."

A few thin tears finally slipped out of the edges of Jack's eyes, and he wiped them away quickly, sniffling. "I just… I miss them…" He looked up, the realization staggering. "I… I miss them." Something in Jack nodded. His internal voice telling him that he finally had gotten it right.

That was why he was so was why he had held the funeral.

The answer that he'd been looking for, why he had done all of the work, why he'd held the service and the memorial. Why he'd tried so hard to turn back time. He wasn't doing it for himself. It had never been for himself. He'd wanted another funeral because he'd wanted another chance.

The first time that he'd seen it, watched the woman cry and not known who she was, who she was to him, he'd never gotten the chance to tell her he was okay, that he loved her, say goodbye.

He missed his mother.

He missed his sister.

He missed his family.

Through cracked lips a choked sob made it's presence known. Jack looking up at Bunny, so broken and distraught, the inklings of childhood and abandonment and invisibility crawled back onto his face. And for a moment, he looked like a small child. And his next words, some that Bunny would never forget, ones that smashed his heart over and over again, trembled out through the tears that pearled on his lips.

"I want my mom."

And for once in his life, E. Aster Bunnymund felt totally and completely helpless as he watched Jack, trembling, fall to the ground.

* * *

It had taken some coaxing on his part, but Bunny had managed to get Jack to finally sit down with him by the shore. He didn't attempt to subdue the boy, nor did he try to calm him. He just allowed him to let it all out, no matter how long it took. And for that, Jack seemed to be somewhat grateful. He didn't cling to Bunny, but he sat close enough so the frigid air nipped the rabbits skin.

They say on the ground for a while, Bunny observing Jack's work. There had to be at least two hundred candles (a few looking surprisingly like the ones from North's office), all of them dancing and flickering like the moment they'd been lit. That part, that the wax didn't melt, had to be some sort of magic.

His eyes turned to Jack next. The boy, still crying next to him, was staring at the cloak he'd brought. Aster remembered it. What he'd worn when they'd first met, not a very good meeting mind you. What, he was sure, the boy had been brought back wearing. Memories held in its faded, ripped surface. A security blanket through harsh times.

Beside him Jack made sort of a horking sound, wiped his eyes, and let out a shaky breath.

"You akay now, kid?" It was a stupid question. Jack didn't answer. "Did you get what you came for?"

"No…" his voice was cracked, metallic. "No…"

"What did you come for."

Another few suppressed sobs. Another wipe at his eyes with the blue sleeve. "I c-came… to do the funeral. To let my m-mom know…" He choked, "I just wanted a funeral."

Aster waited a moment, thinking. And then he nodded. Getting up and brshing off his legs, he offered one large paw to Jack. "Then, mate, it's a funeral yer gonna get." And then he took Jack's hand, pulled him up against his will, and led him to the side of the lake.

The earth crunched underneath heavy paws, sticks and snow crackling. Jack's feet, as they always did, moved as if he was floating- no sound, no disturbance and no mark that he'd even been there at all. If it weren't for the frost that swirled underfoot, branching off into flora patterns on frozen ground, he'd have been left without any trace of having been there at all.

He followed Bunny forward, the furry arm draped firmly around his shoulders preventing any escape, leading him in the direction of the lake. Both were silent. Jack, even with his very feeble attempts at breaking away, made no move to speak. And when they did reach the edge of the lake, still tucked against one another, they simply stood. Both pairs of eyes surveying frozen waters, tracing small cracks and leaves stuck underneath, preserved by a good two feet of ice, admiring the patters Jack had left, changing every day and the effervescent moon lacing itself throughout the ice, hanging in the middle as though staring in a mirror. Small tendrils wound out towards the land but never quite seemed to reach, and the stars, which ones were able to be reflected at all, danced over quiet waters and skated to some unknown melody that even the Guardians themselves couldn't hear.

It was then that Bunny finally let go of Jack. He stepped forward once again, moving even closer to the lake. His green eyes flickered back toward the boy, still holding onto his staff for dear life, though his head held a slight tilt. Bunny smiled, and turned out towards the water. And then, in a voice that pin balled off of frozen trees, Bunny spoke.

"I've been ta a few fun'rals in my life. It's part'a my job, after all. Tah spread hope where I can. Tah show people tha' there's still somethin' ta hope for. But… there was one fun'ral that I never went'ta, an I wish I had. I really do wish I had…" for a moment Bunny's voice, combing through the air, became softer, sadder. "It's too late for tha' now, though.

"Jack Overland Frost was a good kid. A real good kid… no matter wha' anyone said about 'im. He was true to 'is friends an' 'is family, took care of 'em when they needed it most, an' never let them down.

"'E was born a Guardian. Probably better than any other one I ever knew. Everything 'e did, 'e did for others, an' he never said nothin' about it. 'E lived through the beatings, through the poverty, through the starvation. 'E lived ta' see 'is sister get Christmas presents even when 'e got nothin', an' 'e lived ta' beat up any bully who messed with her… even if it meant he wasn't on any nice list fer a year. An' 'e lived for 'is sister… even if it meant he… wouldn'."

"Jack Frost deserved more than he ever got. 'E never deserved ta' die. 'E never deserved the three hundred years. Ya' might not know this bu'… being alone… bein' _forgotten_," Bunny shuddered slightly, never taking his eyes away from the imaginary audience, "it's the worse thing in the world. An' Jack Frost took it lyin' down."

Taking a moment, Aster gathered his thoughts together, looking over towards Jack, who stood still, shocked, frozen tears sheen against pale skin.

"He had been an' always will be remembered. As a good person, a brave person an' a loved person. But most 'portantly, he'll always be remembered as bein' a guardian." Another look to Jack. "We're jus' sorry no one saw it sooner."

The candles danced, quivering against Jack's own shaking features. He'd gotten his funeral. He'd finally gotten his funeral. And yet… somehow… he didn't feel…

He wasn't even sure, the empty feeling knowing away at him inside out. Gripping his stomach in iron jaws, tugging against his brain and chest and lungs.

"Bunny… I…" And there was nothing else he could find to say.

Somehow, Bunny understood.

Speech over, words said and job finished, the Pooka made his way towards the youngest. Crouching down, he pulled Jack closer by one, stalk-like wrist, holding his arms in his paws.

"Frostbite?" Jack didn't respond, still gaping elsewhere. "Jack, mate, look at me." The boy did.

"I don't expect forgiveness…" Bunny squeezed Jack's forearms with his paws, "an' I certainly don't d'serve it. Prob'ly never will. Wha' I do need is for you ta' know that when that preacher talked about you… he wasn't completely lyin'." He lifted Jack's chin up, watery blue eyes staring back at him in wonder, confusion, hurt, amazement, hope… "'E told yer mum that you were goin' ta a better place. Now, I know tha' wha' you got at first… it was cooee from better. But tha' doesn't mean it can't still come, ya hear?" Carefully, he pushed Jack's hood off of his head, the silvery locks bending and bouncing up once more, tousled by the movement. Both paws went to Jack's shoulders; a gesture he hoped would help the boy understand.

"I know it took too long…" Bunny hesitated, "I know tha' it took three _hundred years_ ta' get… but I think it's time ya had somethin'. We _need_ ya ta' understand tha' we _want_ ta be yer fam'ly. We _wanna_ keep ya with us an' we _wanna_ make sure yer never 'lone again. Jack… we wanna _be_ your better place." One paw ran through the boys hair, green eyes fixed on blue. "But… only if you let us."

Jack's breathing, unsteady and unsure, his eyes flickering, watery. The empty place fought to take control. But something else was fighting it.

"I wasn't bad…"

"I know." Paws steadying him, keeping him in his place, preventing escape- though he hardly looked like he wanted to run.

"Bunny… I was… I didn't know who it was! She was my mother and I… I didn't _know_."

"Ya had no way'a knowin', Frostbite."

"But-"

Bunny gave him a firm shake, "Naw, mate. But nothin'. Ya couldn't 'ave known, an' that's all there is to it."

"I know that… but…" he paused again, eyes looking over frozen water, "she… couldn't see… me."

The empty place was winning the battle, fighting to keep its host.

Aster paused, for once having no response. How it must have felt to watch your own mother forget, to neglect you just because you were invisible to everyone. For once all the fairy-tales you'd been taught becoming backhanded slaps. Reality crashing in on you when you realize that not even _love_- that magic that had been claimed to conquer cities and restore lives- could do absolutely nothing. That even the love of your own mother was not strong enough to break down the invisible barriers… not enough for her to turn and see you one last time and tell you that you _are_ loved. Even if that statement is said one last time.

Jack hadn't gotten that.

What he'd gotten was cruel words, hopeless tears and words that dropped like flies into the snow.

It wasn't common for E. Aster Bunnymund to show affection, but now, he suddenly realized, it was essential. So, holding onto the kid by the shoulders, he tilted the younger's head up once more, turning it away from the water and towards him. "Kid… you have to understand this. Okay? I need ta' know that you understand this." he waited. Jack nodded. "You ain't alone anymore. You have people now. Even if ya don't want a fam'ly, ya have people. And you have to know that you are _so_ important ta' us. We ain't gonna let you go, ever. Because we love ya." He playfully nudged the boy with his nose, pressing the damp pad to his forehead, "_I_ love ya. An even if it don't seem like we do all the time, we _always _will." His breath ticked the boys face, bringing out the tiniest of chuckles. Bunny smiled. "You're not going to be forgotten again. At least, not by us. Never by us." A swallow, a thick smile. "And there ain't _nothin'_ on this earth that could change that."

Jack watched Bunny for a moment. The staff in his hand was clutched against his chest, fingernails scraping the thin wood, tapping and twisting it is his palms. Loud swallows lurched down his throat, chest quivering in an attempt at keeping back what had been held for so long. And then, finally, when the silence was becoming near permanent-

"I… I…" the young boy struggled, breath hitched, catching. Then words that Bunny would never forget. Words that somehow sent his own heart soaring. "… I think that… I want a family." And with that, the empty place inside of him disappeared.

At the same time, something in Bunny, something that had been broken before, seemed to pick itself up, grab the Elmer's and glue itself together again. Everything, with that simple statement, pieced together, connecting the half and the whole, tearing apart the fog, retrieving all that was lost and storing it in the light. Strange warmth tickled his spine, working its way to his chest. And it took him a while to realize what had caused the strange feeling to arise.

It was the first time Jack had ever referred to them as a family.

Bunny could only smile, trying to hold back with everything he had. "Then it's all yours."

There was a clatter as Jack's staff fell, forgotten, onto the ground as the smaller of the two figures launched himself at the other, latching on. Cold, white fingers grabbing onto tufts of fur. His elfish face burying itself into Bunny's chest as emotions from whatever cup they'd been sealed in finally_, finally_, spilled over.

"Shh… it's a'ight, Jackie… it's a'ight. I got you." Bunny's own arms circled the spirit, holding him.

They stayed like that for a while. The wind, attempting to do its part, wound its way through Jack's hair, ruffling the feather light locks. But somehow the wind, though a great help in the past, wasn't enough for Jack. So he held onto Bunny, not wanting to leave.

"You know," Jack sniffed, his words muffled by Aster's fur, "when my sister… when she was upset… I used to do this for her," he backed away, just enough for Bunny to see his red rimmed eyes and face flushed with frost, "I'd just stay with her like this." He sniffed again. "Now I guess… the roles kinda changed, huh?"

"I'd say that," Bunny chuckled, ruffling Jack's hair affectionately, "Ain't to bad ta' have an older brother, is it? Hows it feel ta' be the youngest one though?" His only reply was a wrinkled nose. Aster laughed. "I thought ya'd think tha'." There was another long silence. "D'ya wanna go back soon?"

"No," Jack shook his head, "No." Another pause. "Can… can we just stay here for a little while?"

His feet were freezing and he was fairly sure that the skin under his fur was turning blue. It hardly helped that the boy, still clinging to him like a lifeline, practically excreted wintertime. Tiny tails of frozen tears soaked into his fur, making his shiver. And yet, somehow, the idea of telling the child no simply didn't pop up in his mind. Instead he nodded, chin bouncing lightly off the top of Jack's head.

"Yeah, Frostbite. We can stay here. 'S long as ya need me. I'll stay."

He felt the nodding against his skin.

And that was how they stayed.

Bunny held on tightly to the kid in his arms, his chin resting on the downy hair, his chest quickly growing damp from tears. He carefully snuffled the boys head, white locks moving with the gently puffs of air. The white fingers held on tighter.

For a moment, Bunny wondered if maybe Jack's mother had heard. Finally able to hear the funeral that her son had deserved, the words that Jack Frost -Jack Overland- had not been allowed. To hear, without any if, ands or buts, that her son _would_ be alright.

Looking out he swore that, even thought he couldn't see past the waters and the candles, he could feel someone there. Someone who was meant to be there all along, finally allowed to see what they had to. And it wasn't frightening. The presence was a calm one, a happy one. A release of sadness held on for so long. He wondered, somehow, if maybe his mother hadn't been allowed to see until now. Maybe she hadn't been allowed to know until now. Maybe she had been invisible too.

And for some reason, Bunny found the need to give a respectful nod over the darkened waters, past the point even his eyes could reach. One single nod. A thanks, for handing over something that she had held onto so dear. A thanks for giving him Jack, and for letting go, giving him the chance to, in exchange, grab on where they'd left off.

"Don't worry…" Bunny's voice softened, lowered so as not to let Jack hear, his eyes scanning the lake, looking for the audience he could feel was there. "Don't worry… he's okay now. We're gonna take right good care'a him. He has a family. He's going to be loved for a long, _long_ time. I'll make sure'a it." And then, because he felt it should be said, he added, with the slightest hint of a smile curling his lip,

"He's in a better place."

* * *

That night, after Bunny had taken Jack back to North's, not mentioning anything of the events that had transpired, after Jack was tucked in, after dream sand had been spread and good dreams were to be had, it rained.

Rain in the pole was unheard of. It was never meant to rain there, meant to simply freeze and shift to snow. But somehow this rain, much like the first time, refused to yield to natures petty laws. It hammered against gutters and windows, the _rat tat tat_ tapping against the walls. Trying to make its presence known to the one boy who slept soundly in his room.

It was as if the sky itself was crying. It had done it the first time, at Jack's funeral. The tears falling from the sky, attempting to show just how broken and lost that one person felt. How Manny felt. His way of apologizing, the Man on the Moon, by crying for Jack. Apologizing, at first, in advance for solitude. And now, once more apologizing for what that solitude did.

This time, thought, the boy wasn't there to hear it. Not that he needed to hear it anymore. Apologies would do nothing. He had what he needed, and he'd gotten it on his own.

As if to prove the point, the door to the room opened slowly, two massive ears appearing first, and then the rest of the body. Bunny, checking in on the boy, quietly made his way thought the room. On careful paws he reached the bed, bending down next to Jack. An affectionate smile painted his face, and a paw moved to tuck the blankets, now kicked to the boys feet, around him once again.

"Sleep tight, ya little anklebita'." He brushed the bangs off Jack's face, then moved to leave. A hand gripped his wrist, eyes drunkenly peeling open.

"Bu-u-nny?"

The Pookah chuckled, moving closer again, "'M righ' here. Jus' tuckin' ya in."

"S…tay?"

When Bunny hesitated, his own warm bed calling, Jack's eyes grew tenfold. "Please?" He didn't want to be alone. He was done being alone. Bunny understood. Carefully, the rabbit crawled in beside the sprite, who promptly moved against his chest. Bunny shivered, but stayed in place. Jack sighed, cold breath tickling the rabbits skin. "Hey, Bunny?"

"Yeh?"

Jack buried himself under the covers, nuzzling against Bunny's fur, sleep taking over quickly. He yawned. "You make a… a really good… older… brother…" and with the last word still hanging in the air, Jack fell into a deep sleep, dreams of sisters in his head quickly joined by another, taller, animalistic person, dancing over his head.

And Bunny could only smile.

The rain stopped after that, seeing no point in continuing. And soon, after giving up, the apology limp in cold air, the droplets turned into lazy flakes of snow that fell to the ground.

And inside Jack slept on, surrounded, for the first time, by his very own family.

* * *

**Aaaaaan that's it! I hope you liked it! I didn't love this one, but eh, what can you do! Not everything's a winner. Anyway, sorry this is so late and I hope that the story makes up for it! Have an amazing day!**

**~Gal**


	19. Drunk Jack

**Ok folks. Here's the deal. This one is going to have typos, it's not my longest in the longrun and it's also not my... best. Not so angsty, just lighthearted, drunk fun! I wrote it really quickly because I needed to get something out (been a while, am I right). **

**And because... well... the truth is I'm working on a SUPER ANGSTY EASTER DAY CHAPTER THAT'S GONNA COME OUT ON EASTER DAY! Lots and lots and LOTS of angst. I've given a quick preview to a few different fanfic people and one of them cried. Yeah. At the preview. So it's gotta be somewhat sad, right? Anyway, lots of Bunny and Jack fluff coming. AND THEN AFTER THAT THE LAST PART OF JACK DEATH ARC! I SWEAR! But for now, the chapter you've all been DESPERATE to see!**

**DRUNK JACK!**

* * *

Jack had seen adults with the red cups or flutes in their hands. And whenever they sipped at the clear liquids they seemed to simply… light up! It was like snow days for people over the ages of believers. And whenever he watched them, drinking and laughing and suddenly dropping every insecurity they had, he had an intense need…

To _try_ some!

And what were the chances that one of his elders happened to be a large Russian man with an even larger supply of Russian vodka.

He raised the bottle to his lips, head tensing, ready to simply knock back a swig…

… and then found that the bottle had magically disappeared.

He stared at his open palm for a few moments, looking at the etched lines on its pale, flat surface. It's _empty_ surface. And as the time passed –not very much time at all- his surprise grew into something akin to… confusion. Slowly, he turned to look to his right, where he was sure the door had been closed just a moment ago.

He couldn't see the door. In front of it, standing very close to him, a tall bottle in hand, stood a very peeved E. Aster Bunnymund.

"Wha' the 'ell d'ya think yer doin'!?"

His mouth opened to respond, then closed, then opened again, looking more like a fish than anything else. Cunfuzzled, he turned once more to his flat and empty palm, as if seeking through gypsy readings the suitable answer he could give. Finding nothing, he turned his head to smile guiltily up at the anthropomorphic rabbit.

"Umm… would you believe I was forced to?"

The large foot began to tap.

"I was singing into the bottle like a microphone. My secret passion is to be a rock star."

The ears tilted back in anger.

"I thought it was water…?"

The broad arms crossed, flexing, and Jack gulped. Never before had he realized Bunny had _so_ _much muscle. _Of course, his sudden realization may have been connected to the look he was receiving. The, _I could just beat you up right now_, look. Or maybe it was the _you aren't leaving your room for the next hundred _years look. Either way, it was simply a _great_ time to forget his staff in the other room.

"I'm in trouble," he accepted, shoulders slouching, "aren't I?"

"Bloody right 'bout that Frosty. Wha' the hell were ya doin'! Tryin' ta swipe booze from North?"

"I wasn't trying to swipe it! I was trying to drink it!"

"Oh, tha' just wins yer case!"

"Well, shouldn't I be allowed a few swigs!?"

"Not on yer Nelly. Long as I'm up an' hoppin' you ain't 'llowed anywhere near this tickle."

"Seriously?"

Bunny guffawed, the clear liquid in the bottle quivering along with his body, "Yea, seriously! Ya ain't legal! An' as long as I'm yer guardian-"

"_You aren't my guardian._"

"Yer right. We _all _are. But, see, here's the thing. North might let ya drink this," and he waved the bottle in front of the winter spirits face, "Tooth _may_ let ya have a sip. Sandy… I don't know wha' the man would do." Bunnymund thought for a moment about it, then shrugged. "But none'a tha' matters. Cause unlike them, _I'm not lettin' ya have it!"_

"North would let me drink it all!" And Jack didn't doubt it. In fact, he'd be sure the man would think it good of him.

Bunny rolled his green eyes, sighing heavily. "Well, I ain't North, an' it's a good thing too!"

"But North-"

"North has tha' will ta' drink ten'a these and stay sober. You, on the other hand, would turn slobberin' drunk on me after one shot."

"No I wouldn'." Jack crossed his arms, feeling like a little kid holding a tantrum. But really, he had to defend his honor some way.

"With yer twig body, yes, ya would."

"Then when _can_ I drink it?"

"When yer 21."

"I'LL NEVER BE 21!"

"Then you'll never drink."

"I could drink in Italy!"

"Don't care. We're goin' by my rules. Far's I'm concerned, those are a little more... solid fer you. Last thing I need is a drunk ice spirit."

"Ugh!" Jack threw his hands into the air, the atmosphere growing colder, "why did _I_ have to be ageless!?"

The rabbit raised his paws, the bottle sloshing overhead, but Jack could see the smirk that stretched across his face. "Oi, take that up with Manny, not me, Frostbite."

"Oh come _on_, this is sooo unfair."

"Preachin' to the choir."

Jack was silent for a moment, trying to grasp at an argument that would be sure to make his case. Finally his eyes landed on the Pooka in front of him. Head tilting, he seemed to think for a minute, and then his eyes lit up. A single finger came to point at the rabbit as the exclamation left pale lips. "You drink!"

That should have won him the battle. At lease, that's the way Jack pictured it happening. He certainly wasn't expecting Bunny to snort, a look of indignation cast upon him.

"C'rection," Bunny marched past to put the bottle back in it's place, sliding the door shut again, "I drink _sometimes_. That's hard stuff. If yer gonna drink, least choose somethin' a little less… stiff."

"But I wanna try it! I've never had a drink before!"

"What is this obsession with drinkin'?" He made to push the boy out, but the glare made Bunny stop, tilting his head, "You never said nothin' before."

There was a long silence, and Jack suddenly became very interested in his feet.

"Frostbite…?"

"I… may have gone to a party…"

"May… have…?"

"Yeah…?" He shuffled his foot on the ground, counting the floorboards, "a teenage party. And… I may have seen a few… games that were played…"

"Ya mean drinking games?" Okay… so this made a little more sense…

"Yeah… and I saw all of the kids… drinking… stuff… And it looked kinda-"

"Fun." Bunny interrupted him with the flat note, running a paw over his face. "Oh Manny give me strength…" the mutter did little to rouse the young child of his guilty floor observation. Wait… no… not young child. _Teenager_. Sometimes they forgot it. A few of them old enough to watch Shakespeare write and Columbus sail, they always looked at the young one in front of them, a mere three hundred years, and ignored until very recently. They always saw a young child, someone they had to protect from the world they had failed to shelter him from for so long.

But there was only so far that would go.

Of course…

Bunny had always been a believer that the best way to learn was through trying, and failures were one step of the way to success. Another smirk wound its way across his face, a glint sparkling in his eye.

"Yunno what, Frosty?"

Jack looked up for a second. Frost had crawled up his cheeks in what Bunny could only assume to be a blush.

"You wanna drink?" He opened the door, taking out the bottle, "then here ya go." And with that, he plopped the bottle into the grasp of a very surprised Jack Frost.

Jack stared at it for a moment, not sure what to think. Was it a trick? Was Bunny setting him up for a prank? Was there something the rabbit wanted in return? He looked up at his elder, brows furrowing. "So… what…?"

Bunny laughed again, "Well, ya wanted it! Now go on," he motioned with his paws, "take a swig!"

"I'm not going to die or anything."

A snort, "hardly."

"And… you wont tell North…?"

"Naw, though I'm sure North'd be proud."

"And Tooth-"

"Are ya gonna gab all day or take a drink?"

Shrugging, Jack screwed off the lid. He smelled the bottle for a moment, but nothing out of the ordinary hit him. His nose wasn't burning off, that was a good sign. Hesitantly, staring at the Guardian of Hope the entire time with a suspicious gaze, he raised the bottle to his lips once more.

"Take a sip, why don't ya?"

Oh no. That was a challenge. And Jack Frost always took on a challenge. He wasn't going to take a sip. He was going to _drink_.

Casting an _I'm a real man, so suck it_ sort of look towards the painter, he threw back his head and took one large swig.

He had thought he'd swallow it and then bask in the triumphant glow that was winning. He was awfully good at that, winning, and gloating to Bunny was a terrific pastime. But often times our dreams and reality tend to be different. Often times far _too_ different. Because as soon as that first gigantic swig had hit his throat he'd regretted it.

It _burned_.

Not like, trapped in a desert during high noon sort of burn. This was a different sort of burn, and he'd have to argue that it was worse. He was only able to really swallow half of what he'd taken, the other half spewing out all over Bunny whose cry of protest wasn't heard over mindless spluttering.

"Ow…!" Jack rubbed his throat, scowling, looking up at the now soaked Pooka.

"Yeah. Ow. I told ya, mate," he adorned a scowl now too, wiping his face off with his paw, "don't drink North's booze." And then, after some careful thought added, "Ya can't take it."

Despite the fact that his throat still hurt like the devil, a small bonfire had been lit in his stomach and he was beginning to slowly see spots adorning his vision, Jack's look darkened. "I could too take it!"

"Could not. Look'a me!" He gestured to his soaked fur. "Ya couldn' even get a swig in!"

"I could if I wanted to!"

"No ya couldn'."

"Could too!"

"Frostbite," Bunny's voice lowered, hands going up in surrender as he watched Jack pick the bottle up, determination written all over his features, "Listen to me… that wasn' a challenge, mate. Jus'… jus' give me the bottle."

"No! I can do this!"

"Jack! Give me the bloody booze!"

"No!" Jack took another swig, managing not to splutter, but his blue eyes screwed shut. Bunny took the opportunity to try and lunge for the bottle. But years of avoiding people seemed to have finally paid off as Jack, coughing and retching, managed to swoop past, into the air, bottle in hand. He got out the door right before Bunnymund could grab his ankle and let out a whoop of joy. Oh his way out he grabbed his staff and was in the air in seconds, heading toward the large globe.

"Frostbite! Get yer pasty arse back here!"

"Nope! Watch this, Bunny! Your going to lose your little bet!" Jack settled on the top of the metal done, taking another swig and wetting his lips. "Yunno, this stuff isn't half bad when you get used to the taste!"

"That's not s'possed to happen!" Bunny glared up. "Now get down here right now, fore I…."

"Before you what, call North?" Another swig. "What's he gonna do?"

"Frostbite, please!" He'd never begged in his life. And now he was begging. Because MiM knows what this could lead to. "C'mon, come down. I'll… I'll let ya have a glass'a wine or somethin' at the warren. Just-"

"North says wine is for wimps." He sloshed the bottle around in his hand a few times and then squinted at the bottle, smiling. "If you twirl this around enough times there's bubbles!"

Bunny was silent for a moment and then let a paw land on his face. "Oh MiM… give me strength…"

"Bubbles, Bunny! Bubbles!" A small gasp. "I WANNA POP THEM!"

Bunny felt a sudden need to once more be invisible.

* * *

By the times North had finally made it to the main room of the Pole, Bunny explaining that he hadn't wanted to leave Jack alone lest he slide off and hurt himself, he found a sight he thought he'd never see. A fuming Pooka staring up at Jack Frost. Well… that's not true. He saw that every time there was a meeting. This time though… it was different. Jack lay on his back on the globe staring at the ceiling, every so often letting out a series of giggles, clapping his hands together and exclaiming something. There were spatterings of ice and snow covering the globe as well as the ground, all of them random and strange. A few of them were failed attempts at ice drawings. Much like the ones that he'd showed them, his creative display of making rabbits come alive from window panes.

These were strange and sloppy. Half baked smiley faces and the occasional drawing of a foot. A ice picture brought to life floated past him, moaning strange things in another language. From what he could see, and he watched it go past rather quickly with eyes wide in fear, it looked to be a pig with the head of a waffle. Or maybe a parrot... He shook his head, turning to look instead at the Pooka who stood a few feet away.

"Bunny…?" The large man moved forward, eyes staying one the top of the globe and the boy who currently occupied the space.

The rabbit stopped him with a raised paw, instead handing him an empty bottle. It only took a few moments to register what had happened, and when he had North was almost on the ground, holding his stomach, laughing.

"That ees my boy!"

"Yeah, well yer boy's a right pain in the arse," Bunny mumbled, glancing up at the boy again. "Specially like this."

"Nonsence, a leetle vodka never hurt anybody, no? Ees good for boy. Become man."

"Really? Because by my count he hasn't said one 'manly' thing yet."

"Hey Burrrrnny!" The call came from the globe, Jack's flushed face peeking over the edge. "Hey… bun…. Bun… bunny!" He giggled. "Bestie Bunny! Bestbunny! Besunny! Yer my besunny!"

"That's fantastic, Frosty." He gave North a look that clearly said _see_, and then went back to looking up. "Now, why don't ya come down so we can-"

"HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT! C'MON AND HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT! HIS ME WITH YOUR… WITH YOUR… with your…" his face screwed up. "I f'rgot the words." Another pause."Hey… hey… hey Bunny…"

"What?"

"Where'd the sparkles go?"

North looked over raising a brow, but Bunny only shook his head. "The purple unicorns ate it, Esky."

"No! Not them 'gain!" He slipped a little on the rounded surface, his icy body making it hard to stay in one place. "We have ta' get it back!"

"Sure we do."

"Will you help me!?"

"Sure, Frostbite."

Jack nodded down at him, giving him a cheeky smile. "Yay!" The boy felt wonderful. Great, in fact. Never had the world been so bright, so cheerful. Never had the outlook of things looked so fantastic.

It was then that Jack had one of his best ideas ever. The entire world had to feel like he did at that moment. He had to share snow with everyone. He had to go flying-

-right now.

And so, standing up on his strangely shaky legs, Jack Frost took off for the large window on the ceiling that lead outside.

"Jack! Смотри, мальчик! Черт возьми!»

"No! Frostbite! Watch ou-"

_Clunk_

North sighed, watching Jack fall to the ground. "Note to selves… never let Jack have my alcohol, da?"

"Yeah…" Bunny looked up. "Well… at least the window didn't break."

"Dat ees good news, indeed."

"Bunny…." A pitiful mew from the floor. "I dun feel gooood…"

"Oh hell no…"

"Gonna puuuuke!"

North chuckled. "You hold his head back. I have work to do. Check list only once."

"Traitor."

"Have fun."

* * *

There wasn't much to say after that. Jack woke up the next morning. His mouth was dry, his head had decided to host the next world war and he felt the need to remember the words of some song a rock band had written long ago. Looking around he could see that he was in his room tucked under the covers. On his bedside table a glass of water and two pills that looked almost handmade. A note sat beside them.

He had to squint to read it, his vision pounding along with the drummer in his skull.

_Frostbite,_

_Take the two pills. They're my own recipe. Just some flowers and herbs that will help with the headache. You took a nasty spill yesterday after you got drunk off your arse and decided to flounce around. Get up soon or else I'm cracking open the marker and using your face as a canvas._

_E. Aster Bunnymund._

Jack frowned, popping the pills into his mouth and praying that they worked. Shaking his head to try and rid of the bitter taste he turned the note over.

With a yelp he was out of the bed and running down the hall. Who cared if his skull cracked open. This was a matter of life and death.

On the very bottom of the card where he'd almost missed it-

_P.S. Apparently Sandy took some pictures. You'd better be ready for major payback if you want to even see the back of these beauties. I deserve it. I didn't much like being your puking buddy.  
_


	20. The Three Seasons

**WHEN I SAY RIDICULOUSLY YOU SAY LONG!**

**RIDICULOUSLY!**

**LONG!**

**RIDICULOUSLY!**

**LONG!**

**That's right guys. Her comes the big one. The monster. The one shot that makes me want to scratch out the word "one shot" and just write in "novel" It's that friggen long. **

**Almost 16,000 words. 15,849 to be exact!  
**

**Not even joking. Like I said. Ridiculously long.**

**Anyway, sorry this didn't come yesterday (or two days ago, as it just turned 12:00 right now). Whatever. I have been WAAAY too busy lately. Not only family stuff, but school stuff too. Life suddenly decided to kick my ass.**

**Anyway, A quick note before I go. NaNoWriMo is going to be taking over my life for the next month. What I might do, then, is create one last oneshot before I go. I know some people want to see the end of the Jack Death arc, but I'm thinking of saving that and instead doing something so incredibly fluffy, you'll sneeze. Oh yeah. That's seriously fluffy.**

**Anyway, this one was NOT beta'd. I just wanted to get it out there before I ran away for a month to write my actual novel. mjbaerman, I miss the stuffing out of you! In fact, I might just go and PM you soon. yeah. that's what I'll do.**

**And, as a side note, this one shot is kinda all over the place. I tried to make it a more serious one. I've read a few of the same idea on this site (Jack meets the other elementals, I mean) and I thought it was my turn to take a crack at it. Then this was born. Not the best, certainly the longest. It's my own spin on things at least, which I'm proud of thinking up on my own! But besides that, it's fiercly unimaginative, with not nearly as much brotherly fluff as I wanted. **

**Next one coming up? Jack gets turned into a five year old. Bunny's gotta play parent. **

**THAT will have much more fluff.**

**Anyway, thanks to all who helped and encouraged! You are all the best!**

**And if I do publish this novel I'm working on, you'll all be the first to know! **

**Peace! And i hope you like this more than I did!**

**~Gal**

**Chaleur means Pumpkin. I believe Citroulle means heat. And Fleur... just figure that one out!**

* * *

Every season had to end at some point. And when it did, it usually did so in a slow, gradual and noticeable fade- courtesy of the coming weather. Many times these changes happened in bold, spectacular ways, bursts of color and light, smells and textures that filled the air with a symphony of beauty.

Summer, the hottest month and often the brightest with its seashores and bright sun shafts. And then came Spring. The weather milder, the sun subtler, the colors greater. Pinks and reds and greens suddenly exploding into a shower. And then Fall, colder and crunchier. But the colors, oh the colors. Reds and oranges and purples. The world, despite the sudden temperature shift, seemed to be on fire, the phoenix rising from the ashes once more to spread its wings and claim the air.

And then came winter.

White.

Just white.

The temperatures dropped to below zero, and when it rained it froze on pavement, creating hazardous walkways for people to travel on. There were no chirping birds, no vibrant colors, no plants or flowers or indication of life.

Some would say that winter was the most beautiful. The snow floated down from the heavens in fat, purposeful flakes, covering the land in a blanket. Trees, bare and shivering, were suddenly shimmering, icicles hanging like ornaments. And, without fail, there were always frost ferns adorning every window.

And at night, with the moon hanging like a marionette between the stars, the snow would sparkle even more brightly then the largest diamond. A sea of sequins graced with the dull blue glow from above.

It was quiet, tranquil, intricate, amazing.

Some would believe that.

_Some_.

Those some did _not_ include the other seasons.

For as long as they'd been around, and that would have to have been been a few hundred years, Chaleur, Citroulle and Fleur had hated the idea of winter. And when the existence of a _person_ in the shape of that season itself had come around they'd been even angrier.

Seasons are known for many things. Their temperatures, the changes in atmosphere, the humidity and the heaviness in the air. But for the most part, seasons were known for their spectacular and splendid beauty. Photographers were never ones to take for granted the natural colors that sprung up in fall, the perfect lighting of summer, the blooms of spring. Each season had something to offer artistically. Each season trying to compete with the next. And they did a fairly good job of it.

Everyone in the world has a favorite season because of it. That one time of the year where getting out of bed wasn't such a chore. Pulling open the blinds and seeing a canvas through the dusty glass. That was the time everyone liked. And everyones was different.

What people didn't realize that the spirits responsible for said seasons were prideful, vain creatures. Not without reason. Their talents were exhausting to control and the end results were fantastic and whimsical. And each one, though often kept a distance from the other elementals, respected and admired the work of their colleagues.

Except for Jack Frost.

The killer of the seasons, the destroyer of color, the meddlesome sprite who seemed to slash through greens and reds and pinks with harsh winds and stabbing snow. No season was safe from his touch, has finger capable of sucking the life from their fine artwork. And the spirits didn't appreciate it. Not one bit.

Oh, they'd tolerated it for as long as they could. Winter wasn't Jack Frosts doing and snow had been around long before he had. It was after he was born, the last of the four to be changed by the moons power, that everything started.

Now winter had a mind of its own, literally. If it wanted to snow in the desert it could, if it felt like sending a chill through California it would. The now Boy Winter had power to send winter late or early.

Sometimes during summer he'd fly over while the Sprit of Summer was at work and give the season a nice cold breeze that send short-wearers into jeans for a week, not daring to even step into the oceans.

Sometimes spring found her flowers withering under cold rain or the sweet smells snuffed out by harsh breezes. And if it was particularly relentless, Winter wouldn't release it's hold for naught, giving her limited time to show off the colors she displayed.

And Fall often found that the wondrous colors, the explosions of color, the fireworks of _color _were seeped out of trees by white, grey and cold. The perfect temperature was dropped and the crunch of leaves muffled as they were soaked in slush, leaving behind torn veins or weeds and mud.

And none of the seasons liked it.

So, after a few years of what they considered abuse and destruction of artwork, they took action.

Ten years after his birth, still thinking that no one could see him, Jack Frost met the three other elementals.

He'd been thrilled that three other people could see him, talk to him. He could interact, touch, smile, laugh, and have others do the same back. So happy, was he, that he barely registered the fact that the fist of fall was flying towards him. Until it hit.

And hit.

And hit.

And hit.

And hit.

Always hitting the mark. All three of them.

Summer, a fire cracker of a young man named Chaleur, was the most powerful and his kicks often times left Jack's ribs sore for weeks on end.

Fall, a Frenchman called Citroulle, just a tad younger than Chaleur but older than Jack by a few good years, was many times the most spiteful. Very proud of his own art he seemed to take most offence when it was left destroyed.

Spring, Fleur, was a quiet girl and kept to herself. And yet the appearance of the frail, tiny, elfish girl, did nothing for her temper. Usually mild mannered, when she was forced into a fight she was very much the one to throw a few good punches.

Jack Frost heard these names and never forgot them. Because every year they returned to his side. And every year the beatings started over. They were merciless, meant to teach some sort of lesson, and never wasteful of a single moment. Every second was filled with soft mews and grunts as the curled up Winter Sprite found his body blackened and blued.

And he hated to admit it but all of the beatings…

He _liked_ them.

"_Why is he smiling?"_ _Fleur had asked Citroulle after one particularly nasty bout of abuse in 1798. It had left him unconscious, slumped against the trunk of a birch tree. As always they stopped before any blood could surface, but enough to see the bruises, the touches they'd left against his face and neck and torso. _

_In some places their fingermarks were red against white skin._

_Many times they broke bones._

_That time his fingers, lax against white snow, looked mangles. At some point Chaleur had stomped on them._

_And yet a thin smile was left on his face._

_Citroulle had shrugged. "Dunno, but who cares."_

_And then they'd left._

Unbeknownst to them, Jack Frost enjoyed the sessions. He relished in their arrival. And though the recovery was painful and long, the beginning was what he looked forward to. Because despite the bruises and the pain and the hurt…

It was still _touch_.

Despite the cruel words, it was still _talking._

And despite all of the threats and glares, he took comfort in the fact that people could _see him_!

And that was what Jack Frost loved. He loved being able to be seen. He'd met the Guardians a few times and they'd hardly given him the same courtesy. Hardly even stopping to notice the small boy with the black eye. They never tried to stop any of it, and they never showed concern. And though he hardly cared about that it hurt to be passed by as if he didn't exist. To be thrown out without so much as a second glance.

And so the beatings that occurred during the years were all he had, and he enjoyed them as much as he could.

He got used to the fists.

_Hitting and punching and kicking and breaking_.

He got used to the glares.

_The looks and the cold shoulders._

He even _almost_ got used to the names, though those seemed to hit deepest.

Names like _worthless_ and _nuisance_. Sometimes one of the three stepped it up a notch, delivering crueler names. Names like Frostbite.

But he got used to it all, and for the most part they did almost nothing to disrupt or detain him from his job. Sure, they left him with this strange, niggling, empty feeling. But besides that they were never drastic enough to do anything more. A few bruises, one of two broken ribs. And he expected it to stay that way forever.

But things like these can only go on for so long before they explode and expand. And explode and expand they did. The one year where it all blew up, escalating to a whole new level of realization for the Frost child.

It was a year that not many would forget.

The year of 1968.

* * *

The day was turning out to be a colder one. And Jack Frost had a few plans of how to take it into his advantage. Nothing extreme, just a few snowflakes here and there, a dusting of sparkles to accent the leaves already growing back green. Spring was coming, he knew, but there was no harm in a little help.

It must have been early morning, the sun just rising over the tree tops, kissing the land with orange rays, when they arrived. All three of them.

And they were furious.

"Oh, hey guys." Jack waved his staff, floating a few inches above the ground by the lake. "You caught me just in time! I gotta get going soon, but-"

"But nothing, Frost," Citroulle snapped, stepping forward. His own staff, a gleaming copper rod covered in delicate filigree, flashed in the morning light. "You were going to spread snow."

"Just a little," the pale brow furrowed. "But what's wrong with just a little. It's the end of winter, Springs just getting here."

"Exactly," Fleur stepped forward, bland hair swirling through imaginary breezes. The wind tensed around Jack, sensing the other powerful force. "This is my time, Jack. We need you to leave."

"I can't. Not yet."

"You can." Chaluer, in all his red glory, glared, black eyes flashing, "And you will."

"I don't get it!" He threw his arms in the air, "You three have never had a problem with my timing before!"

That much was true. He'd gotten a better handle on when winter should and shouldn't be, and they hadn't complained about that… much…

"That isn't the point."

"Then what's the point!" The winter sprite walked forward, his gut twisting, "tell me! I have to leave now if I want to make it before the day is over!"

"We just need to go away for a while," Citroulle nodded along with Fleur's suggestion. "And by a while we mean a _while_."

"But-"

"The world can do without you, after all." _Ouch._

"Why cant you just keep your stupid powers to yourself?" Chaleur crossed his arms, a cruel scowl adorning his face.

"It's not really my choice, you know." That was true. Elementals were spirits of nature, and their powers had to be released in order to survive. They hardly dictated it, instead allowing their environments to help them along. When the weather said snow, he snowed. That was all there was too it. They should have understood that. Their pride, on the other hand, seemed to not enjoy the idea so much.

"Well then," Chaleur moved forward, expression darkening, "make it your choice."

"It's not my decision!" Jack mirrored the other's movement, feet stumbling backwards. His hands tightened around his staff, rime slithering through his fingers. "Can't you just leave me alone?!" This was different. They'd never been so determined before. Never determined to see him leave.

They were just supposed to teach him a lesson and leave. That was it. That was always it.

"Not until you get your act together, _Frostbite_." The Summer spirits scowl lightened into somewhat of a triumphant smirk when Jack flinched at the name- a cruel name. A slur. A name meaning _worthless_, _wrong_, _trouble_. A hate name. Jack winced again, letting that slide, and swallowed once more. When his voice emerged again it was weak, desperate. "Look around you. Do you see the slush and mud? That used to be reds and oranges-"

"I swear, I didn't mean to ruin Citroulle's leaves! It's just the changing season! That's what happens!"

It had been one of the worst winters to date. The excess cold had allowed the powers of said Winter Spirit to escalate, and fall had to end early because of it. Soon all the color was replaced with black and white, leaving a very insulted, very grief stricken, very _vengeful_ spirit to deal with. And he'd gone and told the others, alerting them of the one responsible. Not that they already hadn't known.

"And what about the snow that you were about to let loose, huh? Are you _trying_ to destroy spring?!"

"No! I would never! I just have to do it today! My powers… just one more day! I swear!"

"Not if we have anything to do with it."

"You cant even do anything! I… I-"

"You'll what," Citroulle sneered, his own staff tensing in his grip. "You'll tell the your mom?" He snorted, "Oh. Right. You don't have one." Tapping his chin with an elegant finger, he leaned forward, large eyes furrowing with the glinting smile. "Or did you have one? I wonder… It's such a shame. At least _some of us_ can remember who we were."

It was an impulse, Jack would later argue. The words had hit home, and they'd hit hard. He hadn't meant to strike out like he did, but he had anyway. Staff moving under instinct, a shot of ice rocketed out, hitting the elfish frame of Fall, sending his hurdling back into the snow. It hadn't been hard enough to really hurt, just enough to send a message. And hard enough to get a reaction, one that Jack saw coming right away, eyes opening in solid fear, but was not fast enough to avoid.

"You little shit!" The Summer spirit lunged forward, eyes blazing, and did the worst thing he could think of.

He grabbed Jack's hand.

It didn't take long, a matter of seconds, before the sickening smell of burnt skin permeated the air. Sounds of popping and sizzling akin to bacon in a pan mixed with the shrill cries of Jack. The wooden staff dropped, Jack's hand going to his captured arm, trying and failing to yank it away. Words that had no meaning bubbled forth from his mouth. Or maybe they did have meaning, but even he couldn't hear over the quickly growing wind that funneled around them, his screams shadowed by it's wrath. Snow whipped at the group, Jack's heightened emotions allowing the weather to do as it pleased.

Jack's bare foot struck out, trying to hit something. Anything. One kick- miss. The second kick- another miss. By the third kick his body was spasming in obvious pain. And yet, somehow, that kick got a target. The air was knocked out of Chaleur as a naked foot dug its way into his stomach. He let out a croak, releasing the now black, blistering hand, and stumbling back.

"You… you little brat!" Now it was Citroulle's turn, moving to face the terrified, hurt minor, clutching at his hand. "We're supposed to be teaching you a lesson!" It was beginning to get hard to see past the snow, but not hard enough that there wasn't a clear shot. And the Fall spirit used that to his advantage, the heavy staff lifting in the air. It came down fast, unfazed by all other elements, and landed on the youngers leg.

There was a sickening crack.

And then a scream.

"_That's_ for destroying my art," Citroulle yelled over the wind. He let the staff swing again, getting a clear shot to the boys side. "And _that's_ for being born."

"You're worthless," Chaleur had finally regained his breath enough to stomp forward, advancing on the teen who was now stumbling back, chocking gasps, wretches and cries all mixed, escaping his gaping mouth. "You're a waste of the moons energy. One more winter like this and we'll do worse. I promise that."

"I-I'm s-s-sorry!" The pale sprite gasped, holding back tears that threatened to spill. "I'm so sorry!" He choked again, the pain unbearable. "I didn't m-mean… I d-didn't think-"

"Exactly." Summer added one kick to the bad leg and Jack crumbled fast to the ground easy with a short cry. "You never do." He looked ready to deliver another swift kick, but Fleur intervened. The delicate girl fighting through the whipping winds and snow, shielding her eyes from assault by ice pellets, fanning away the offending temperature.

"We have company!" Her delicate voice barely moved over the sound of the flailing wind, now in sync with Jack's own choking sobs. "The Easter Bunny! And he's angry!"

"Damn." Chaleur nodded. "Right. Lets go."

"Don't think this is over," Citroulle warned, a finger pointed down at the fallen spirit. They all turned to leave.

"W-wait!" One pale hand extended, fingers wiggling, arm shaking in effort.

"_What_?"

"T-today? E-Ea-Easter?"

Citroulle smirked. "Yeah. And by the looks of it," he motioned to the wind, the snow, the piles of white quickly growing on the ground, "you just ruined it."

And then they were gone, leaving only faint hints of peach blossoms, nutmeg and fresh grass floating through the air, quickly snuffed by the still falling torrent of snow. Jack curled into himself, looking at the disaster around him. Easter Sunday and it was covered in snow. His fault… his fault… his-

No! It wasn't his fault! It was an accident! Sniffling, he raised himself up on his arms, wincing and holding back sharp cries as he jostled his bones and skin. He'd met the Easter Bunny before. In brief conversations, mostly. And many of the times it consisted mostly of jeering and light insults. But from what he'd heard in the fairy world, E. Aster Bunnymund, though not patient, was not one to beat around the bush. Maybe if he simply told him what had transpired. Bunnymund, from snippets of backstory he'd picked up, had some sort of medical history. Maybe he'd even help him. Jack shivered, shock settling slowly in. He needed help soon before the pain became unbearable, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to take care of himself then. He'd gotten used to that- taking care of himself. But that was because no one cared enough. Maybe now…

All he wanted was help. Just help. His leg hurt and so did his arm, warmth soaking through the sleeve of his ratty hoodie. He was afraid and lonely. They'd never hurt him this badly before, and he'd never fought so hard in his life. And now, surrounded by snow, in pain and scared, he was asking, no, _begging,_ for the one person he knew could help him to do just that. Bunny was known for his medical training, wasn't he? He could take away the pain. He could allow him some comfort. The thought's of warm clothes, patched limbs and a hand to hold were all that plagued him.

So he'd done what he'd been told to do since childhood. When you're hurt, go to the adult. He'd done everything right. He'd fought. He'd been level headed. He'd gone for help! And yet here he was, standing in the snow, being punished for doing just that.

He'd found Bunnymund. But from the way he'd been stormed upon it would seem as if the anthropomorphic had been looking for him. And much more feverishly. And when the two had found each other the result had been nothing less than fire and ice meeting.

"You bloody ruined my 'oliday!" Bunny fumed, pointing at the younger boy. "D'ya understand just what this could do!?"

"I'm sorry!"

"Now you're sorry! 'S far's I'm concerned, mate, sorry ain't gonna cut it!"

"Please, I just needed help! I just needed-"

"What you need is ta' go somewhere where people act'lly want you. Or better yet," He loomed over Jack, egg basket long forgotten, muscles tense and rippling, "_why don't you just disappear._"

They stood like that for a few more moments. Jack, supporting himself on his only good leg, pain racing around his leg in some kind of sick race. Fear flashing through his eyes as the green orbs sank through his skin.

"…_please_…" he whispered, one last attempt to explain, to _attempt_, "_please… I need… can you help me? Please?_"

Bunnymund was furious. He was livid beyond any point of return. And the flimsy voice did nothing to push him off the fence he lingered on. Eyes fixated on a spot above the boys head, blind to the red splotches blooming across his arm, the way his leg hung at unbalanced angles, a limp marionette whose strings had been slashed, or the way his face, so pale like the snow that fell, was slowly beginning to take on a purplish hue. He was resistant to any inkling of patience, sympathy.

"Naw, mate. This' yer fault. Help yerself. But don't expect me ta' help ya." He backtracked across still falling snow, scooping up his basket as he did and hooking it onto the crook of his elbow. "Yer on yer own, Frost. So stay where ya b'long."

"But… I don't belong anywhere." Though it was said to himself, soft enough for normal hearing to barely catch, the long eared figure easily grasped the words. Turning, he gave the winter spirit a weak glare, the last of his anger sapped through the look.

"Then stay there. Who said we needed ya' anyway."

And with two taps of his foot he was down the rabbit hole and escaped to warmer climates, believers waiting for him.

Jack was left standing there in the snow clutching at his hand, tears brimming and freezing to his eyelashes in stubborn clumps. He'd done that for a few moments, just staring at the flower that the sprouted from the ground at Bunnymunds departure- a bright red poppy. It's color, that of fire trucks and warm strawberry jam, stood out painfully against the bleached ground, a drop of blood in an ocean of ice. The cold caught up to it quickly, thought, and within minutes the delicate specimen had been clutched in the throws of wintertime.

It's petals dropped under weight of snowflakes and the wind tucked itself around the new occurrence as if to rip the stem from the ground. Red became rust as the pedals withered and drew in.

It was instinct really that Jack bent down and plucked the fragile being from the grasp of the snow, holding it in his cupped hands as if to protect it from the harsh chill. The red against his skin matched that of the blood, but this was far more precious. This was life, beauty, rebirth, all in a simple flower. He'd always liked flowers for that reason. They were something that he could never be.

And, as if proving his point, the flower in question began to shrink back against his frosted skin, finally browning, drying and dying away. Soon he was left with a coppery sort of plant in his hands, brittle and frozen, ugly and dead.

That may have been the moment that Jack realized they'd all be right.

The thought had occurred before, of course. It had never not been there, just further back and away from the surface. Kept far enough back to allow himself to be resilient and somewhat happy. But it had surfaced now, the dreaded thought. At plagued him at an alarming rate with whispers of truths and facts and repetitions of past words.

_You're worthless._

_You're not useful._

_You're alone for a reason._

_It's your fault._

_It's always your fault._

_Everything is your fault._

And this time, for the first time, staring that the small life in his palms now drained of just that, he couldn't help but realize that they were all right.

Maybe everyone had been right. Maybe Bunny had been right. Maybe it was his fault. Everything.

And as Jack sat down, examining his leg with shaking fingers, the other one fisting the dead and now crushed plant, he began to understand exactly what the Pooka meant. Winter _was_ a bother. It killed, it caused accidents and losses. Beauty in nature, just like flowers, died under his wrath. His cruel, meaningless wrath.

He deserved the beatings. They were just and deserved, and at least, he thought, they were some kind of attention. When there were fists, curled and cruel, beating into his arched back, at least they connected with skin and bone. There was no walking through, no ignoring or forgetting.

The beatings had continued as they always had. But this time with more blood, more bones. And less and less did he enjoy them. The thought that others hated him for what he had done was becoming evident. And the hope that maybe one day one of the spirits would hit a winning blow stayed in the back of his mind. That one, single, fierce swing towards his body…

… and he wouldn't have to be invisible anymore.

But no such blow ever came. And he was left bleeding poppy red in the snow.

* * *

To say that the Guardians weren't perceptive would be a half-truth. When Jack had joined their little club they tried their best to pay as much attention to him as possible. Many times, though, they found the task impossible. Either he shrank away from their vulture like attention or he found ways to simply avoid it. Many times their jobs got in the way and had them speeding around throwing hellos and goodbyes as they passed.

And because it was only once in a while, and Jack had a habit of leaving for long periods of time, they never got to see the spirit after the three other elemental's passed through his territory. A few waves in his direction would be all he'd receive. And of course his hood, out of habit, did wonders to hide the startling abrasions that littered his porcelain skin.

The Guardians may have gone on forever without knowing, had it not been for Bunny's Easter dilemma.

The rabbit was frantic, his first Easter since the children of the world had ceased to believe, returning him to a miniscule state. And this year he was determined to reverse his luck.

_You're gonna stay out'a the way this year, Frostbite_, he had jabbed the boy in the chest, hardly noticing the visible flinch at that name.

That stupid, stupid name.

And Jack, not feeling like a fight was worth having, shrugged. _I wasn't gonna do anything, anyway, Kangaroo._

It would seem, though, that the simple swear was hardly enough for the anthropomorphic being, who cast a skeptical look. However, sure enough, as Easter rolled around, the rabbit was hard at work in his Warren, painting and stiffing and preparing for what was to come. North, as always, thought of good ways to prove his holiday superior. Tooth blabbed about how chocolate must have been terrible for the young children's teeth.

Sandy, as usual, stayed quiet and did his job.

Of course he, out of all of them, couldn't help but realize how jumpy Jack had become. How, as Easter neared closer, and winter in the young sprites home came to a close, the always "cool as ice" boy suddenly couldn't stand any loud noises. He flinched and skidded, eyes glancing over shoulders. And when darkness fell at the pole and it was time for him to leave he hesitated for half a beat, scared to venture out alone.

But Sandy, feeling as if he'd be prying, said nothing.

He should have said something.

He really should have.

When Easter did, finally, arrive, it was a day of both chaos and calm for the Guardian of it. Bunny had been skittish, scared of results that would no doubt be fabulous. The year past, though, loomed in the back of his mind, haunting him.

"You weel be fine!" North had patted him on the back a little too hard before he'd left, almost sending the basket of eggs flying out of the Pooka's paw. "Just try to reach Santa standard. Da?"

"Whatever, dag," the return was a mumble, "I don't have time for this." With one last look he plunged down a rabbit hole towards his first destination.

And Jack…

Jack waited.

There was some hope in his system, the tiniest inkling of it, that his guardianship would have saved him from what would no doubt transpire. It wouldn't. It never would. And some part of him knew. Or maybe, just maybe, that they'd have noticed by now. But they never noticed, they never had. This was between him and the others, and it always had been. And it would likely always stay that way.

So he stood at his lake that day, shoulders squared, face hard, expression as stagnate as it could be.. Bunny had told him to stay out of the way, and he would. He would strive to stay out of the way. So he sat and he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He didn't have to wait any longer. Looking towards the sky three figures, standing out against a grey sky, flew towards him.

Jack pulled up his hood. He wouldn't take it any more. He was a guardian. And if they wouldn't help him than this time he'd help himself.

Jack Frost would fight.

* * *

"Easter was a success!" Bunny panted as he walked through the pole. The smile on his face was infectious and the three others who had showed to celebrate couldn't help but smile back. "An' look'a me! Regular size just like I should be!"

"I think that counts as success any day," Tooth winked. "And all the lights on the globe seem to agree."

"They're all on!?" He looked up to check.

"We lost a few, of course," he nodded- they always did, "but besides that, every one is brighter than ever!" A quick smile his direction, "Good work today, Bunny."

"Thanks." He was breathless, worn out, and dog tired but had enough energy to at least slap a goofy grin onto his face. "Whats tha plan, then?"

"Big feast! Celebrate success once more!" Sandy nodded, agreeing with the Cossack. "We make sure you get reward!"

Bunny chuckled, shaking his head. "Honestly, my reward this time was no bloody snow. Th' last thing I needed was a drift ta' hide googies in." His brow furrowed, "Speak of the devil, where's tha' esky, eh? Thought 'ed be 'ere all day!" He looked down to the remaining eggs in the basket in his paw. "I 'ave an Easter present fer 'im."

"Jack as not come to pole all day." North shrugged. "I am being sure he will arrive."

"Well he'd better. Show him how a _real_ Guardian does it."

"Bunny!"

"Aw settle down, Toothy! It's only a jibe!"

"Still… I don't like it."

Bunny sighed and looked around. "D'ya even think he's gonna show? Rare fer 'im ta do much this time. 'Specially with it bein' the start'a spring an' all."

"I do not know. We could always go look…"

There was a painfully long silence.

Of course, they'd all been thinking it. All of them wanted to go and search for the missing piece of their little group who so often needed to be found. The only problem was that, so often, Jack hated being followed. He was a loner and a nomad, and being restricted by the expectations of dates and times had never settled well with the young boy. He lightly protested, never making too big a deal of the new changes. But they'd all seen how much it all affected him.

Schedules, apparently, were something Jack only followed if they were his own. And rarely did he even do that.

Going after him would not only be endangering their chances with his trust, a fragile portion of his already distrustful psyche, but their chances as a family. They so wanted him to feel like he did in fact belong. But they were never sure if, in order to allow him to feel as if he did, they had to go by their own rules or his.

This time, they figured, a compromise was not something to be overlooked. He'd gotten his way before.

It was their turn.

"We want to take sleigh, then?" North broke the silence, glancing over to Bunny who hesitated. Then nodded.

"It wont be faster… but I think it'll be better if we're a group for this one, yeah?"

"Agreed."

With that in mind they all rushed to the garage.

* * *

It had hurt.

More than Jack could have imagined.

He'd seen them coming from a mile away, his stance defensive and his eyes calculative. And when they'd landed he'd decide then and there to end it all. It was risky, and he knew it. Talking to them being the firs thing he would try he asked them what they were doing there in the first place.

"I just have to know. I didn't do anything. At all." And then for good measure, "I'm a Guardian now."

That was supposed to be protection of sorts. And yet the anger in their eyes, such ferocious, terrifying anger, only grew.

"That's why we came, actually." Fall stepped forward, grip on the copper staff white knuckled. "We have to talk."

"No we don't." He willed his feet to stay, to be brave. "There isn't anything to talk about. All that I have to say is I'm done with you. You have to stop."

"And what's that supposed to mean!?" Citroulle sneered, his coal black eyes seething, burning holes through the freezing skin of Fun. "How's that, huh?"

"I… I have a family now. S-so…" _deep breaths_, "So you have to stop."

"Family!" Summer snorted, looking back at the other two who sniggered in turn, "Do you hear him!? Family!" Eyes burned once more. "You don't have a family."

"Yes, I do!" _Breath! Breathe! Stay calm and breathe!_

"Really. Then where are they, huh?"

"I…" He actually had no idea. He'd avoided them, that was one reason. But he'd hoped that maybe they'd be a bit more perceptive. "They're at the pole. It's Easter. That means…" he swallowed, "too much work."

"Too busy for you? I understand."

"No! It's not like that! It's just… just…"

"Heh," the thin laugh was nothing more than egging, "I thought so." He stepped closer, feet burning through the new grass, melting frost. "Yunno, they never helped you before either, _Frostbite_. Ever. In fact, I think I remember a particularly nasty year. Which one was it?" He turned back towards his comrades, smile sickeningly sweet. "Fleur? You remember?"

"I believe," her smile mirrored his, "I believe it was 1968!" Gentle gaze looked towards winter with the same femininity as a lion, "That was a good year, was it not, Jackson?"

He didn't answer, looping his fingers through the drawstring of his hoodie.

"Anyway, to business." Citroulle clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward. "We want you to leave your Guardianship."

It took a minute to process, but the words did finally reach his ears. "What!" A splutter, "What do you mean!?"

"We mean resign. Retire. Leave. However you want to word it, it's all the same." He paced, "You see, that title was supposed to go to one of us. You know, the important seasons. Why they'd choose winter out of everything I'll never know."

"It isn't your fault, Jackson," Fleur offered with as much kindness as a cobra, "Winter Spirits just tend to be more destructive. You can't help your nature." Her voice softened. "All we wish to know is why a Season ultimately known for its… fatal… nature would be chosen to _Guard_ of all things. Surely you must understand this!?"

"I… I don't-"

"And besides, with your… record…" Chaleur shrugged, "We can't imagine what these new… 'family' members of yours want you for. Simply to use you, no doubt. We heard about Pitch. Who didn't. The great Jack Frost, vanquishing the king of Nightmares. No doubt your initial use."

"Only use, you mean!" Citroulle sniggered, "What else is he good for to them. They hardly liked him from the beginning. To think they'd change as of now. I'm telling you, it's all out of pity. You heard the Rabbit yourself. He thinks as much of you as we do!" And then, for good measure, his teeth flashed and that name, that stupid, stupid name slipped through bared teeth. "_Frostbite._"

"Shut up."

"What was that?" Chaleur, stalking forward. "Sorry. Didn't hear that."

"I said… SHUT. UP!"

That seemed to have been enough. Because after that he couldn't remember much besides the bursting pain and the smell of burning flesh.

Now, curled up in the snow, he felt the metal staff of Fall land a shattering blow against his side. Something cracked and his breath hitched violently.

They hated him. More than they'd ever hated him before.

"You don't deserve to be a Guardian!" Citroulle seethed. "That was my spot!"

"Hardly," Chaluer had landed another kick. "It was always mine! I was better than anyone ever could be!"

"Fighting will do nothing in this situation!" Fleur, as always, was relentless. Her sweet voice reaching even that of the ears hidden by arms on the ground. "Whatever the situations, and whomever should have rightfully taken this title, we must remember that we were not the ones to receive it!"

"How did you get it, then!?" Chaleur was facing him, stalking and angry, "How!?"

"I don't know!" Jack had tried to get up and run, feet moving quickly against the snow, but a shattering kick had him yelping, falling back down. "I'm sorry! I don't know!"

"You don't deserve it!"

"I know!"

And he did, in face, know.

Something warm was beginning to spread down his arms, legs, feet. A trickle descending his forehead, rounding the cerulean orbs. Another blow and a snap shook the forest.

Jack screamed.

"We deserve it! We always have! And yet _you_, _you of all people!?_"

They were beginning to go in for the kill, hatred seeping from every pore of their beings. "You took it all from us. _We deserved it!_"

No matter how many times he apologized, trying to explain that he didn't know why he'd received anything at all, they kept at it. And they continued until he was sure his skin would rip open and slide off his person. And at some point he wished it would.

It wasn't until he was sure that he was going to die that everything stopped. And then he heard it.

"OI! WHATCH'YA DOIN'?!" The three fairies all let out startled shouts, garbled messages flowing from their mouths. There was a quick scatter, and then the breezes took them up into the sky out of reach.

Jack peeked open an eye and watched them leave. Tiny specks in the sky, they finally disappeared against a blue backdrop, melding into it's sapphire beyond until not a one could be seem anymore.

He watched the sky and continued to watch the sky long after they'd all left. And when that had happened, when he couldn't see them any longer, and all he was aware of were eyes on his back, Jack allowed himself to slump. And he stayed like that against the snow, lying on the cold ground, what few flakes that had fallen surrounding him, attempting to add what comfort they could.

"Frostbite."

Jack cringed.

"Hey… you okay?" There was a shuffling sound he could only assume to be Bunny, inching forward. He sighed. Might as well get it over with.

With shaky arms, he braced himself against the ground and pushed upward. Every limb was screaming at him to stop, broken bones and charred skin protesting heavily against the actions, but he continued forward. It took a few minutes, but he had himself on his feet once again, hood quickly taking its place on his head.

A few deep breaths…

And then he looked at them.

Bunny was closest, having tried to approach. All of them, staring at him as he stood there, one leg elevated from the ground, twisted at odd angles. Blood dripping off of every part, landing with light _plips_ against the dismal ground. Bruising littering what skin they could see. And what they couldn't see…

"Jack!" Tooth noticed it, hands going to her mouth in shock. "What… what happened?"

"Nothing." He shrugged and then cringed. "Really."

"But Jack…!"

"I'm fine, Tooth."

Bunny looked up at where the three elementals had gone, then back down at the man in front of him. "Who did this to you." Looking up again, and then back down, not quite sure where to keep his eyes, the rabbit bared his teeth. "Who were they!?"

"No one."

"C'mon Frostbite, I just wanna he-"

"No." he shook his head. "They were no one. That's it."

Sandy sighed.

"Frostbite!"

"I'm fine! And stop… stop…" _Stop calling me that…_ he wanted so badly to shout, though out of everything he could say, that was last on his list. Mouth shutting, eyes downcast, he shifted to better stand on his leg, staff planting into the ground to add more support.

North was often known as the wisest of the spirits, and for a good reason. Seeing the quick decay he stepped forward, naughty and nice held lax at his sides. "Jack… do you want to go home?" Jack's mouth opened, then closed. Glaring at the snow he did nothing else. North sighed. "Would you like to go back to Pole weeth us?"

And that was it. There was nothing to add. He wouldn't pry because prying had worked out badly for them in the past. So he would do what he knew was best. Ignore it. For the time at least.

It seemed to do the trick, too, Jack timidly looking up, calculating and deciding, waiting for what else was to come from North's mouth. When only the invitation hung in the air and nothing else seemed to be mentioned, Jack relaxed. A slight nod.

"Okay…" he shifted again. "Okay…"

Though it was hardly an explanation, everyone visible deflated, happy to have made some success, no matter how small.

"I'll meet you there, then."

Or maybe they'd made none.

Jack's brow furrowed, his mind wondering how he was going to get off the ground and keep his leg stable. Because he could. He knew he could. He could take care of himself. So entranced by his own self worth was he, he hardly saw the larger man inch forward.

"Jack… " the white hair shot up, staring at North as if a hurt animal, eyes becoming slits. A warning to stay in place. His elder complied, stopping in his place, both hands raised. "Jack, we can take sleigh back," North hesitated, trying not to push the boy past his fragile limits but also allowing his eyes to twitch down, looking at his twisted leg, scratched skin, slow flow of blood oozing through the blue hoodie through the cracks in his fingers and toes. "Ees no problem…" Once more the Winter boy swallowed, shoulders lowering.

"Nah, it's fine," Jack waved the Russian off, twisting his staff in his hands, "I can fly there."

"Jack-"

The urgency in the voice was enough to spark something, and within a second Jack had taken on a defensive pose, recognizing the corner he was quickly being backed into. "I can!" he insisted. "I can! I'm fine!"

"Sweet Tooth, we just want to make sure you're okay." Tooth was trying to sound reasonable, keeping her voice soft while delivering what she knew to be a warning. Jack knew it too, catching on and growing even angrier.

"Well I don't need it! I'm fine!"

Tooth bit her lip, fingers fiddling, "But… Jack…"

"No!" You don't get it! I'm fine!" He was yelling now, limping backwards, hunched in a stance they all knew to be defensive, ready to strike. He watched them with feverish eyes, frost dancing up his neck and face. "Go away! Leave me alone!"

"Oi! What's the deal, Esky?" Paws, following quickly the movements Jack took, crunched in the hardening snow. His temper was flaring now, the boys' attitude a mystery and a surprise to him, and he liked neither.

"I said go away!" His blue eyes grew larger as Bunny got closer, head flicking around to stare at the trees blocking his path, then at his leg anchoring him down. Trapped. He was trapped.

Jack Frost wasn't fond of being trapped.

"Yer gonna talk, ya bloody dag."

"I wont!"

"Yeh, ya are!" He advanced further, "All we wanna do is help you!" His own voice was rising, muscles rippling as he tensed in anger.

"I don't want help!"

"Why?!"

"Because!"

"That ain't an answer!"

"Leave me alone!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!" Bunny growled again, moving in to corner the boy.

That was where he made his mistake. Jack was no longer Jack. Not now. Not when he was afraid and hurt and _trapped_. Jack was quickly fading away, defense mechanisms rising in a stubborn and cold wall between him and the bad guys. There was no more Bunny. No more North. No more Tooth Fairy, Sandy. As far as Jack was concerned, there was only him against his attacker, and he wasn't going to allow them to take control.

So, standing taller, he hardened his glare, clenching his jaw and allowing his knuckles to go taught. "GO! AWAY!"

"We just want to help!" He rose to his height, two animals, sizing up the other, "WE JUST WANT TO HELP! WHY WONT YOU LET US HELP!?"

"I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP!"

"WHY NOT? HUH!? WHY DONT YOU WANT OUR HELP!?"

"BECAUSE YOU'VE NEVER GIVEN IT BEFORE!"

And with that statement, the world froze. Like ice, cold and dark and encasing, time seemed to stand still. Air and breath went silent, words sunk down dead. Even Sandy, who was a man of few sounds, found he couldn't even utter a sign. Tooth's hands hovered at her mouth, a thin sound escaping gaping lips. "Oh…" And Bunny… Bunny found that he was trapped by freezing chains, his eyes fixed on the spirit in front of him who looked _just_ as frozen and _just_ as amazed.

Jack didn't hold it as long as they did. His surprise at his own words dissipated, shifting into anger and hurt. Staff in gnarled hands, he shifted more weight onto his good leg, eyes fixated on Bunny's own shocked ones.

The next time he spoke his voice was soft, but firm. He had a purpose. The only difference was now he had the audience, all eyes roped to him. "Where were you?" Bunny opened his mouth, but seemed lost for all words. "Well? Where were you?"

And once more, no one found the will to speak.

Jack straightened, growing through the silence, eyes slowly becoming glassy, voice trembling, cracking like fragile clay. "Where were you the first time? The second time? The third and fourth and fifth time?" His adams apple bobbed up and down the pale column of his throat. "Where were you when I was punched and kicked and picked on? Where were you when I was locked underground or chased away, scared out of my own home? Where were you when I was hurt and alone?"

Another swallow, thicker this time, forcing back a ball of emotion that stuck fast. "Where were you when I _needed_ you." Jack stared at them for another few seconds, then his eyes became wide, realization sneaking its way into some corner of reality that he hadn't ventured into. "_Guardians…_" he breathed, "You're guardians of children…" Eyes burned through their skin, searching for the same realization, hoping that it wouldn't have to be said. But, when it seemed as if there was no unanimous declaration of understanding, Jack just shook his head, hair whipping from the force.

"I'm a kid… you never… you're guardians. But… you never guarded… me…?"

There was more silence. Scared, guilty, alone sort of silence. The kind you stew and cook and bake in. The kind that wraps around and strangles, forcing your own guilt and fury and fear to enter through borders of minds and emotions.

"We…" North stuttered, looking towards the others, "we did not… we could not… we just… just…" But in the end there were no words. Excuses gone, he simply looked at Jack and shook his head.

"You didn't care."

It was a harsh statement. One they wished to destroy and defeat and smother out.

The only issue was…

… it was true.

They hadn't cared. They hadn't cared enough to know, and so they hadn't cared. If they had known… maybe it would have stayed the same, maybe it wouldn't have. Either way, there was no changing the past- and in the past they hadn't cared in the slightest about the mischievous winter sprite and his daring ways. He had been a distraction and a bother, and they'd done all they could to keep him away.

If they had known…

But they hadn't known. They hadn't _cared_.

"Jack…" Bunny started, all anger gone, one paw reaching out to touch the boys arm. Jack jerked away, small and alone and frightened.

"Leave me alone…" voice as miniscule as he was, as frightened as he was. "I want to be by myself. I'm good at being alone." And then, with as much anger as he had left, rushing through the split dam, "That should be easy for you. You're _good_ at _leaving_ _me_ alone."

Using his good leg to push up, Jack Frost flew off into the wind, small ripples floating across the newly defrosted lake.

* * *

"How could we do that!?" Tooth, close to tears, flitted by the lake, wings beating furiously. "How could we just… leave him like that!? And… and we never noticed. Ever!"

"How could we?" North fell back on the ground, rubbing his forehead and eyes with both hands, Naughty and Nice flashing towards them. "He very good at not talking."

"That isn't an excuse!"

A sigh, deep and guteral, Naughty and Nice once more moving, "Yes… dis I know." He groaned. "We are not very good, are we. Leaving him like that."

"Our Jack!" She cried, hands wringing together.

"Forget Jack… we leave _child_, Tooth. Dis ees unforgivable. And yet we hear no'ting for no one. Not even Manny!"

"And we've seen just how reliable he's been, haven't we?"

"Tooth!"

"It's true, North, and you know it." She glared at the sky, "He hasn't been the best of Guardians either. In fact, I'd hardly hesitate to say he's the worst of them." The moon, shining above, did nothing. She snorted. As always, just sitting there in the sky. Honestly.

"Can the both'a ya just shut yer yaps fer a minute!" Bunny, pacing the grounds, glared at the two. "Act like Sandy!" the Golden man rolled his eyes. "I gotta work 'ere! This ain't as easy as it looks!" And then he was back at work. Lowering his muzzle to the ground, moving to all fours to better access the ground, Bunny began to snuffle and snort, moving round all areas of the spot Jack had stood.

"Bunny… Vhat are you-"

"Hush!" He sniffed some more. "I'm tryin' ta get 'is scent."

"Because…"

"Cause I'm gonna follow 'im."

"Bunny!" Tooth fell a few inches in shock, "Are you sure that's the wisest decision? He did, after all, leave to be alone."

"Blighters hurt. I can 'elp im." Snuffling some more. "Soon as I find 'im." His brow furrowed. "Problem is, there's too many people here. Can't even smell 'im from the blood. Too much of everythin' else."

"You can track heem!?" North smiled. "From dat far 'way?"

"Course. I don't got this shnoz her nothin', mate."

"And you need something to smell, correct?"

"Yeh…"

"Will this work?" Bunny turned to see North plucking a square of parchment from his coat. "In my pocket, must smell like me. But Jack, he touch yesterday. Dat good, yes?"

"What was he doin' with this?" Bunny plucked the paper from the sword masters grip, a letter of sorts. "'E want help me with reading letters to Santa! Very long process, no? Dat," he waved to the paper, "is request for Teddy. Samantha Burke. Nice girl!"

Bunny shut him off after that, placing the paper just beneath his nose. Oh yeah, North was definitely on the paper. Vodka, woodsmoke, sugar cookies. And then there was something else…

He latched onto the background smell before it left him. The fainter of the two scents; fresh snow, pondweed, forest and, as always, a bit of Bunny himself. It was small, but it was enough. Turning his nose towards the waning moon he took in a few gulps of the crisp, Easter air. It burned, tickled, but he continued.

The boy had been smart. Even with his damaged leg, he'd twisted and turned in the sky, spreading his trail this way and that. It had to have been an arduous and painful process, but one worth while, as what would have been an easy hunt turned into an impossible task.

He sniffed again. His scent was everywhere. Moving in circles he attempted to at least find a trail to follow, something that he could locate, like a string leading back to it's host.

A few more sniffs….

There!

Ears going erect, nose quivering, he latched on. Somewhere towards the North, it would seem. He'd gone for colder climate. Where, he couldn't be certain, but that was what his nose was for, after all.

"I'm gonna find 'im. North, get the infirmary ready. By t'night, I'll have ya a Winter Spirit." His foot hit the ground and, with one last whiff of stale air, he was gone, swallowed by the Earth itself.

A poppy was the only thing that marked his having been there.

A single, red, poppy.

* * *

The trek to Iqaluit was one Jack never wished to do again. By the time he'd reached the forests, one of the thickest and most deserted Canada had to offer, he'd been shaking from sheer exhaustion. He'd dropped from the sky, careful not to land on his bad leg, but still wincing as the rest of his aching body hid the snow.

"Ow…" the whine was hard to keep back. But with no one listening he let it reveal itself anyway.

Jack finally settled after that, leaning back against a snowdrift. It had never been this bad before, that much was obvious. The blood, for the most part, was stanched, remnants sluggishly sliding from deeper cuts and staining the pure snow beneath him. He hissed, but went to assess his injuries despite it all. Hands traveled quickly over his person, making sure to take notes of the where's and come up with the hows. How he would fix it, how long it would take, how did it even happen. All relevant to the Spirit who caused it.

For example, the broken ribs, falls doing, wouldn't take more than a few weeks.

The thick burns across his arm, however, would take longer without proper care. Care that Jack simply didn't have.

And then came the leg. Sucking in a breath he touched the bone with one finger. A shot of pain his him hard and he bit his lip to keep from screaming, only resulting in the horrid taste of copper layering his tongue.

It would have to be fixed. Of course. If he wanted to walk again, he'd have to fix it. Not that it was the biggest of predicaments. He'd fixed broken bones before. Almost every year in fact. That didn't, however, make the ordeal any more pleasant.

Jack shuddered, both hands winding round his leg in the spots he knew he'd have the best leverage. An even break wasn't hard to fix, but it was a devil in the pain department.

Taking two deep breaths, filling his lungs with the delicious cool air, he allowed a few numbers to mutter past his lips. _One… two… th-_

And then there was a paw on his hand, gently enough to not jostle the shattered bone. "Frostbite…?"

Jack yelped, jumping from his place only to fall back with a cry. Paws caught him before he could fully hit the ground, but he wriggled away quickly.

"Hey… hey! It's a'right!"

"H-how…"

"Followed you up." The Pooka smirked. "Yer right hard ta' track, ya know that?" And he was. It took five tries to get the place right.

Jack swallowed. "Leave me alone." Scooting back he made a grab for his staff, the idea of fling off again not pleasant. But honestly, it seemed to be just as pleasant as it would be optional.

Bunny seemed to think the opposite. He had the upper hand, moving being much easier with two strong legs, and he made a lunge for the shepherds staff, succeeding in wrapping his paw around the object before Jack could. "Oh no you don't." He threw it behind him, moving to subdue the spirit. "Not until we have a chat."

"Frostbite-"

"_Don't call me that!_"

The outburst was strange, but passionate. Enough to seem like an actual issue was being presented. He nodded, ears bouncing. "Okay… okay… I wont call you that…" the why's he'd find later. "C'mon Fro- Jack. We're just gonna take a look at ya."

"I'm fine," another few scoots back, "I can do this on my own."

"Do what."

"All of this," numbly gesturing to his battered body. "I can do it."

"Okay…" no use arguing, not now. So Bunny sat back, figuring he'd be better off until he waited to be asked, rather than just barging in. "Okay. I'll just stay here."

There was a beat of silence, Jack nodding quickly and then once more positioning himself onto the broken leg. Fingers white knuckled as he grasped the stalk, bone shifting under his nervous shivers.

"Jack?"

The boy let out a mirthless chuckle. "Sorry… just fixing this," he wiped his hand across his forehead, coming away with chilling beads of sweat that quickly froze. "If I don't do it now it wont heal right."

"If _you _do it?"

He nodded, "Yeah… I've done it before. A few times really." Another swallow, a fearful glance at the mangled limb. Even if he had done it before, that hardly meant he enjoyed it, and it never meant that it got any easier. "I-it'll just take a…. take a second." After a purposeful deep breath, hands placed in their accustomed spots. Another few deeps breaths, the lump in his throat cutting off all smidgens of courage.

Before he could do anything the paw was back, stopping his. Bunny crawled over closer, kneeling next to the boy, giving him a wary look –never taking his eyes away- as he gently pushed the lithe hands from the equally lithe leg.

"Why don't'ya let me do it, Frosty."

The reaction was instantaneous, Jack's cold figers reaching to weakly push at Bunnymunds arm. "No! No I can-!"

"Let me do it." Bunny clamped large paws on his other legs, a weight to keep him from moving. And yet, despite the confinement, the gaze he received was one asking _him_ for permission. "_Trust me_." Jack didn't. He didn't _want_ to trust anyone. Not right now. But his own fear of pain –pain caused by his own hand- was tying his stomach into knots. And maybe, just maybe, having someone else take care of something, wouldn't be too bad.

Or maybe it would be worse.

He tried to force down the bile he felt rising, the burning of his chest and the static pulsating of a fearful heartbeat.

A moment of silence. And then Jack, with careful and slow movements, allowed his head to swing up in down in a nod. Bunny's shoulders relaxed, his hands lowering in the slightest and his movements –however graceful they remained- became gradually more normal.

"…okay…" a solemn whisper, a passing of the torch that meant giving full and complete ability to either hurt or help. Trust in a single word and the will to break it in a simple look. Bunny, though, seemed relieved and confident enough that he'd be able to do something right today.

The Pooka was quick to reach into his bag, hoisting the strap off over his head and rummaging through the contents. Jars clanked and other strange things rustled. And when he did pull away, he came with a jar of something dark black that stuck to the side of the glass like a hungry leech. At the wide eyed look he received he shook the glass, giving the sprite a closer look.

"My warren ain't just fer eggs, mate. Good fer growin' plants too. Some plants that have… other uses. This one, a little beauty called the _Cocytus Mavro_." He unscrewed the lid with a metallic sound, putting it near Jack's nose. The boy took a quick whiff then gagged- a reaction met by silent chuckles. "Yeh. It ain't the best smellin' flower. But it gets the job done." Without further ado, the Guardian of Hope scooped a liberal amount onto his paw and dropped the goo onto the winter sprites pants leg was already rolled up, so access to bare skin was easy. Before Jack could even protest, the strange mix was spread along his calf, covering the skin with sticky, tingling tar.

"Bunny," panic rising in his voice, the need to just be left alone, he could fix it all on his own, "Bunny! What are you- oh!"

Cold.

Whatever the stuff was it was _cold_, and quickly becoming colder. All fringes of pain dissipating into uncomfortable throbbing- but that was at least a far cry from how it had felt before.

Bunny leaned back, assessing his work, and nodded once. "When ya can't feel yer toes anymore, tell me. Akay?"

Jack nodded. "… thanks."

"No problem."

And then they lapsed once again into silence.

"Was it true?" Bunny was the first to break it, fiddling with a jar in his satchel. "That you've been gettin' the rod all this time?"

"Yeah." It would seem as if the topic in question wasn't one the boy was all too happy to discuss, looking away and focusing his attention on a suddenly very exciting tree. "Yeah."

Too bad for him, because Bunny wouldn't let this drop. Things had to change for all of them, and that started with this.

"What happened? Why d'they do it t'ya?"

Jack shrugged. "I dunno."

"Yes, you do. And you know that you can tell me, right? You can tell me anything." Silence. "You know that, right?"

More silence.

Bunny felt something within him snap, ears folding back for a mere second before returning to their formal state. This was no time for mourning the loss of trust. It was time to help Jack, and that was all.

"Jack, mate. Can ya at least tell me who they are?" Silence. "What they are, then." More silence. "Please, mate, I wanna help." He moved forward, but Jack flinched and he ceased, sitting where he was only a few inches closer. "We'll talk to 'em. We can find out what went wrong."

"Nothing went wrong." It was a relief to hear the voice, no matter how bitter it sounded. "It was my fault in the first place."

"I don't believe that fer a second."

"Well it was. So… that's it. I can take care of it by myself."

"Ya can't keep doin that!"

"Watch me."

Bunny sighed, paw moving down his face. "Frostbite… Jack," he changed names quickly, watching as Jack flinched once more, "Ya gotta tell me what happened, mate." He settled down in the snow, shivering. "Can ya do that?"

"No…"

The Pooka released a heavy breath, ears bending back. _Leave me alone_. _I want to be by myself. I'm good at being alone. That should be easy for you. You're _good_ at leaving me _alone_. _The words rushed through his head again- ones that he could do nothing but accept as the truth. He was honestly surprised the Jack had let him come this close now.

"Frosty… whatever it was that I did… fer leavin' ya 'lone… I know I can never 'pologize…" the long ears pressed against his neck, back stooping as he tentatively looked over at Jack. The boy had his head turned away, brow set. "But… I am… I'm sorry."

More silence.

Then, Jack stirred. Not looking at Bunny, not giving him the pleasure of that kind of contact, instead glaring down at his broken leg, the dried blood on his arms and feet and legs and the tiny scarlet spots that dotted his hoodie. Swallowing at the dull pain that still riddled every inch of his beaten skin. Glaring down at the snow that had, too, been polka-dotted in tiny red marks.

"It wasn't just being alone." Jack finally spoke, fists tightening. "It was never _just_ being alone. There were other things, too." He swallowed. "It was everything that I had to _take_ alone. The nightmares, the hunger, the… the fights." Another swallow. "No one helped me. No one was even there after…" One tightened fist wiped at his eyes, fingers trembling even with their tight hold.

"You said that this," the beaten body was motioned to, the broken leg, "had happened before."

"Yeah… a few times."

"A few?"

"Every year."

Bunny flinched, breath hitching. "I didn't know…"

At that the look on Jack's face became one Bunny had never thought to see. Angry, accusatory. "It's not like I didn't give you a chance to."

"What'dya mean," the webs of unknown words twisted through Bunny's head, fear of what he knew was coming. And though specifics were lost, there was no doubt towards the level of blame that he knew was to come. "Jack?"

"It's nothing."

There was shuffling as Bunny moved in front of the boy, lifting his face up. And for the first time that evening Jack looked up at Bunny. Though his gaze hardly held anymore anger, his eyes slowly calming their glare, there was a sort of pleading about them. Pleading Bunny to not ask, because he didn't want to have to tell. A look that meant whatever accusations that initially had been loaded in the barrel for Bunny himself, were quickly being turned in the opposite direction.

"I want to know." He held the boys cold chin in a vice grip, waiting for him to understand that he wanted to know, _had_ to know, _needed_ to know. More than anything, the desire to fix what he had destroyed.

Jack blinked back the water that was collecting in his eyes, something that hardly helped, and bit down on his lip. What came next was hardly a sentence, nor was it much of a statement. But it held too much meaning in itself for Bunnymund to misinterpret it as anything else. The boy simple had to whisper the number, let it rasp out of his split lip. Eyes once more brimming with salty tears.

"… sixty-eight."

And Bunny understood.

Eyes gone wide, lungs and heart and brain all shutting down, the rabbit fell back onto his hind legs, arms lolling at his sides in hopeless abandon. "The storm." And his voice, too, revealed all too much.

Jack nodded, wiping at his eyes. "It was a fight. They… they were coming at me. Bunny, I _swear_ I didn't mean for it to happen!" Desperate gaze shifting towards green eyes, now tented in shock. "I swear! It was… it was an accident! They just… they were… I _had_ to fight back."

"When you came to me…"

"I just wanted help." Another furious scrub at leaking eyes. "I hoped that you… that you could help. But… but…"

"But I didn't listen." Paws making a teepee under his chin. "Oh god…" The elder Guardian squeezed his own eyes closed. "God…." He cursed again. "I was so wrapped up… I was mad'sa cut snake when ya found me… I didn't… I wouldn't…"

"Bunny, I swear that none of it was my fault! I get why you were angry! I know that I ruined Easter and-"

"Ruined Easter!?" Bunny was up in a shot, ears erect and bend forward, pupils dilated and focused. "East- you really think tha' I'm worried about _Easter_?"

"I get it though!" Hands waved in front of the boy like tiny white flags, surrendering to what he knew he had lost. "And this year I was really good! I was! And there were no accidents at all! Not like last year or any other year! I know that it was my fault and I shouldn't have-"

"Oh _god_ Jack, shut yer gab, will ya!" And with that the pearly whites disappeared as the jaw snapped shut. "This ain't about Easter, mate, this is about _you_! I don't care that Easter got ruined. Hell, that was a fine year! Bu' fer all I care Easter c'n burn! It's all rot, Jack! What I'm worried 'bout is you!"

"But-"

"_No buts! No more buts!"_ The rabbit was spewing, angry at no one but himself, pacing in front of the fallen friend. "_You don't seem ta' get it! I don't care bout anythin' else! What made ya think fer a second that it was yer fault anyway?! Huh!?"_

"You did!"

Aster paused in his pacing, stumbling briefly. "What are ya-"

"You said that it… that is was my fault! And… and it was, right? I mean… that's what they said. They all said… North and Tooth and… and you and th-the other spirits and- AH!" Jack grabbed fistfuls of hair, lowering his face to avoid letting Bunny see the tears. They froze on his cheeks anyway, and stood out like pinstripes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, a few drops falling from his chin into the snow. "I didn't mean to do it… I just… I just had to fight."

Bunny had never stopped to think about that night from anything other than his perspective. What he had _seen_, what he had to _endure_. The cold and the snow and the whipping wind. Never once had he stopped to wonder what he had said, what Jack had heard.

_You ain't nothin' but a worthless joke._

_Go make a storm where people want you._

_Look at what you've done._

_This is why yer on the naughty list._

_This is why we never come to see you._

_This is why no one wants you…_

_This is why…_

_This is why…_

_This is why…_

His own heartbeat matched the pattern of the words. Cruel words, one's he'd never be able to take back. Wide eyes slowly falling on the boy below him, huddled, trembling. A child.

Children were always apt to believe their elders- believing what they were told because if someone like them said it, then it had to be true. Jack Frost had listened. And he'd listened to _him_.

Jack Frost, for all these years, had believed him. He had believed him because he was conditioned to. That was what everyone had told him. That he'd never amount to anything, that he was a nuisance, that he was trouble. And after so long of hearing it over and over and over and over and over and over-

He believed it.

Jack Frost truly believed that he was nothing more than a mistake.

And looking down, staring at the boy trembling on the snow, back shaking with solid, tearing sobs, he realized that he still did.

Jack, their Jack, _his_ Jack, still believed that he was worth nothing. He had told him once, joking, what had happened during the Easter fiasco. Not enough to create a full picture, but enough to put some of the puzzle pieces together. Enough to get an idea.

_Pitch was just toying with me_, he had said with a shrug. _Stupid things. Fears that I didn't have. You know… Being alone. People seeing me. Acceptance._

It had all been a lie and he knew it. Pitch always knew. _Always_. Jack was scared of those things, deeply. But that last one, the way he had forced the word.

_Acceptance_.

_Their _acceptance. A fear of never being accepted in a group because of who –what- he was. What they had told him he was. What Bunny had told him he was. And the idea had stuck, as most ideas do with younger children. He had hit Jack while he was down and the blow left a deep bruise, one deeper than any he bore now.

Aster crouched, ears flattening, cautiously hopping forward- looking all too much like the rabbit he was. "Jack?" Jack didn't respond, only curling up further, his mangled leg splayed. "Jack… hey. Hey… look at me." Downy hair was pushed back, a paw cupping the back of the chilled head, easing the eyes up to look at his.

Jack, scared and vulnerable, face sheen with tears and frozen sweat, looked up. He was a mess, the fight having done a number to him. Lip cracked, blood dried in small tracks down his chin, small cuts and scrapes scattered along his hands and knees. One eye already beginning to blacken in a neat circle. A few distinct burns that he knew where everywhere, but laced in perfect finger marks across his cheek. Dirt and mud dusting his ears, hair, face. Aster sighed, blowing a heavy breath from his nose.

"C'mere," a quiet command, Bunny drew his closer, fishing a soft rag from his pack, wetting it with snow. "Let's get ya fixed up, yea?" Jack hardly responded, looking away only to have his face drawn back once more, the rag doing its work to scrub away the brown and red patches on his face. "If Tooth saw ya like this…" light joking, trying to bring out the Jack he wished he could see. There wasn't even a smirk, a sparkle. Nothing. So he simply continued to clean out cuts, wash off grime.

The two of them sat like that for a few minutes. Bunny carefully cleaning the shallow cuts on Jack's face, wary of bruises that marred the pale skin. Every so often he'd hush or shush the spirit, subduing him for another moment longer. Fat tears made their way down the glassy cheeks no matter how much the younger tried to hold them back. Whenever that happened he tried to pull away, but Bunnymund was relentless, holding fast and wiping the tears away with the rag as if he hadn't seen them at all.

When it seemed as if the best he could do had been done, Bunny released his chin, sitting back. "We'll need ta fix the rest'a ya up later. Y'll need stitches too. But that's easy." Glancing down. "And your leg."

"Bunny…"

"Yeah Jack."

"You can call me Frostbite if you want."

He blinked, green eyes fixated. "Not if it bothers you."

"It doesn't bother me when you say it…" though his soft voice still shivering with suppressed sobs said otherwise. "Really." He looked down. "It's better when you say it."

"When I say it?" He tilted his head. "I thought I was the only one."

Jack shook his own. "No…" still so quiet, scared. "No… the others used to call me that too. It's a pretty common… name. Something that you call someone like me."

"Someone like you?"

"Yeah."

"Jack… what does that mean."

There was even more silence. Jack rubbed at his face, the back of his hand coming away wet. "Frostbite… it's a kind of an… insult. I guess you could say. Maybe." Bunny's breath hitched. "You call people of Winter that. It's just another word… like worthless or something. And other things too… you know."

"I've been calling you-"

"It's okay, though." He didn't even look up. "I like it better when you say it. When they say it-"

"They?"

"The other spirits. The ones you saw today." Bunny's paws fisted, anger rising. For years and years he'd been using that name. First, the same way they'd done it. Out of anger and spite. Used to insult and hurt. And then to use it again-

"I'm sorry, Fros- Jack."

"Huh?" Jack looked up. Wiping once more at his eyes he attempted to feign composure. "Wh-what…" He shook his head. "No! No… I'm sorry. You were right. They… they were right. I never meant to screw up. I always do it and… and I don't mean to! I promise, Bunny. Really! I just… just…"

"Jack. Shud'up, will ya?"

Jack complied, mouth snapping shut with a dull clack.

"You ain't got nothin' ta be sorry for. Ya have ta know this, kay?" A deep breath, taking in air and courage and will, "What happened at 68… t'wasn't yer fault. Not even close to it. Ya' did wha' ya had ta do. And I wish I coulda' gone back and told myself wha' ta say… how ta' act… but I can't go back. Yer right. I wasn't ever there for ya'. An' yer right ta' say that we left ya lone. Because tha's exactly wha' we did. We left ya. And I wish we hadn't. I wish I had been there for ya"

"That isn't your fault!"

"Yes. It is. That was _my_ decision, an' it was the wrong one." Another breath. "I can't take anything back. But… I want to help ya out. I wanna make up for it all."

"You don't have to-"

"No. You're right. I don't." He nodded. "But I want to. Because that's what you do for family, right? You protect them. And you help them. And you make sure they know yer there. That's wha' I'm gonna do." He nuzzled the boys temple, ruffling downy hair with half breaths. "I will _always_ be here for ya, Jack. _Always._ An' I promise tha' I wont let ya down. Never 'gain. No matter wha' we do to each other, I'm always gonna look after ya. And this," he gestured to the broken lims, "it ain't gonn happen again. I won't let it."

Jack was quiet for a moment, looking down. "No one ever keeps their promises."

His chin was grabbed, forced to look into green eyes. "Well, this ain't a promise then. This is me just bein' yer family. This ain't because of a promise." He shuffled closer, his wet nose pressing briefly to the sprites cold forehead. "This is cause I love ya. End 'a story."

"You… you…" blue searched emerald, looking for the lie the hid between the cracks. Looking so desperately, almost wanting to _find_ that he was right, and that he'd never have that one thing he needed. Because some part of him still screamed that he was alone. He'd always be alone. That he was meant to be alone.

And he found none.

Despite the ache in his ribs and his leg, lying ungracefully against the snow, Jack still found his arms winding their way around the Pooka, his face shielded from the world in a mass of fluff.

Family.

Had he found family?

Or were the others right?

Was he simply a pawn of a plan he'd been included in. A person they'd throw away, get tired of like a bad pair of shoes or a ripped shirt. He was so damaged already, the question of them wanting him still even after that realization was one that lay thick on his mind. Mybe they were right, and he meant nothing.

But maybe…

Maybe they were wrong. Oh how he wished that was true. He so wanted it to turn out as such, that he really was part of something that he'd craved and yearned for for so long. And yet the fear that he'd never be able to accept it all…

That was part of the problem. His own doubt. That he didn't belong, that he didn't deserve it. He recognized it all and tried, time after time, to dismiss it. But to no avail. Somehow he still couldn't remove the idea of "friends" or "colleagues" from his head.

And yet here was Bunny, telling him what he'd wanted to hear from day one.

His head nudged against eh furry chest, taking in the smell of spring, paint, sweat and unmistakable odor of animal, no matter how faint. This was what if felt like to be safe. Enveloped in an embrace you could trust, held by someone you knew would watch your back at every turn. The security of forever. This was... family.

Even if he wasn't ready to accept, to_ trust_, maybe he could at least, give some sort of tiny sign that he was going to try. And he would try to accept it all. _He would_.

He'd been alone for so long. Maybe, just maybe, it was his turn to try and open his arms. Because, until now, it had been the others reeling him in. Giving back was something he was hardly ready to do, but something that had to be done. At least, if he wanted to show them that he _did_ want to have a family.

And if not now, then someday.

And so, with a deep inhale;

"You can call me Frostbite," he said it again through the thick fur, muffled as it reached sensitive ears.

"No. I'm not gonna call ya that."

"It's okay." Jack looked up. "When you say it… it doesn't mean what it's s'possed to." He tilted his head. "What did you mean by it?"

"Just a nickname, Jackie. That's all."

"I like it."

"Okay... Frostbite."

"Thanks, Kangaroo."

"I never said yes to that!"

"I know."

Bunny sighed, but hardly held back the smile.

When the hug became too warm for Winter to handle he moved back, squirming. "Can we go back now."

"Not yet. We gotta fix that leg, 'member."

Somehow, white skin paled even further. "What?!"

"Yeh! Didn't think I'd forget, did you? This bugger has to be fixed before we take off! Unless you _want_ to live with a limp."

"That's fine."

"Frostbite-"

"No! Really! It's fine!"

"If I don't do it-" Paws gripped the leg, "then it'll be to late. Don't worry. It'll be over before you-"

"No no no no no! I want to do it!" Cold hands grappling for his own leg, pushing away the others. The confidence that he could still fix what he needed too, that he didn't _need_ anyone and that he could take care of it all on his own. He'd dealt with pain before. It wasn't something new to him, nor was it something that he was against. Not that he particularly _liked_ the feeling of his own bone snapping into place.

"Jack."

No answer.

"Jack, mate? You okay."

"I don't wanna do it." Looking down at his now goop covered appendage he shuddered.

"If you want, I can. It'll be fast, I promise."

Jack hesitated for a moment, staring down at his toes. And then; "Okay…" he whispered, hands peeling away, slowly and carefully. "Okay… you can… you can do this."

Bunny nodded. "Right then." Paws back in place. "It's up ta ya how ya wanna do it. I can count to three, or I can just snap it back. Yer choice." His knees shifted, snow soaking through to his skin. "Whatever you do choose, choose it right quick. We need ta pop this sucker back in."

"I changed my mind."

"Sorry, can't do that."

"Yes I can! It's my leg!"

"Fine. Here's what we're gonna do.' Hands retreated from thie thin appendage, moving to settle on bony arms. "You're gonna lie down, so ya can't watch. Just relax, okay?"

"It's fine, we don't have to! J-just don't-"

"Frostbite, it's akay. C'mon. Lie down fer me. Can ya do that?"

"I don't-!"

Those same large paws gently grappling his shoulders, slowly pushing his towards the ground. He was sure that Bunny could hear his heart beating, So fast now, even he could feel it pumping in every bit of his body. Hadn't he been through enough in one day? Though he wriggled and tried weak protests he still eventually found himself laying on the ground, his back flat and his arms by his sides, breathing heavy and quick.

"Bunny…! I don't want to… can we just… tomorrow!? My leg doesn't- doesn't hurt anymore!" It had always been him doing this part. Preparing himself for the pain and then proceeding along with the deed. It hurt, yes. But that hurt was in _his_ hands. And now, in a rather vulnerable state, he'd given that power to someone else. And so far, he wasn't reveling in his decision.

Bunny was beside him in a second, positioning his arms away from his body, attempting at relaxing the tense limbs. "No. We gotta, an' you know it. So c'mon, give me three good deep breaths. I wanna see that chest rising." He tapped the boys chest lightly, watching as Jack got ahold of his own breathing enough to at least handle that.

"Alright, Frosty. Tell me when you're ready." Paws on his leg, positioning, doing nothing until he was ready. Jack nodded. "Deep breaths " He did.

"Good, that's good!" the praise got a small smile out of Jack, though it hardly lasted long, fading once more into a nervous frown. "Now, keep at'i, right?"

He gripped Jack's leg, finding the two spots to hold around the break. The black goop had dried for the most part, and what wasn't stuck to the rough pads on the rough underside of his paws. Jack let out a short whine, hands forming fists.

"Hush," Bunny chided tenderly. "Relax." His paws tightened their hold, arms tensing, muscles rippling, at the ready. All of his force needed to reset the bone in one clean snap. "Okay. On three." Jack closed his eyes. Nodded. "One..." Under his paws he felt the leg relax, and with all his weight he twisted. There was a sickening crack- one that filled the tense air with ebbing shocks. But, to Bunny's happiness, no scream followed. In fact, looking down at Jack, he had to smirk at the confused look that adorned his face.

"... ow?"

Aster snorted. "Told ya' this stuff gets the job done."

"Wow."

"Yeah." He smirked. "Can't promise the rest'll be that painless. I don't got anesthetics fer everything. But you'll be fine."

"Can I fly back, now?"

"Hell no. I'm carrying you."

"What! That's just so… demeaning!"

"Whatever, Frostbite. I ain't letting you fly though."

"Bunny!"

* * *

He got jack back as he promised, delivering him strait to the pole for the others to take care of. Tooth was more than happy to pick up the needle and threat, les squeamish than any of the yeti's were, ready to deal with blood and scrapes any day. Blood, after all, was something she saw almost every day.

"North," Bunny stayed outside, sipping on tea and sitting by the well deserved fire. "I think I gotta pay a visit to our friends, the elementals."

"The ones who hurt Jack, da?"

"Yeah. Been going on fer too long."

"Da. Ees true." North stared into the fire, beefy fingers stroking his beard in thought. "We are no better than them, eet would seem."

"Yeah…" he was quiet. "When I asked Frostbite t'day if he trusted me…"

"He said no?"

"He didn't say anything! And that's just as bad!"

"Da."

"He doesn't trust us North. Not like he should."

"I'd have to disagree," he took a swig of his own drink, something a little more potent. "After so many years trust is only something that can come on his own. Let him see if he can."

"But he _can_ trust me."

"Then show dat!"

Bunny scowled. "Well… I cant yet. Not yet."

"Da. Not yer. But in the meantime…"

"In the meantime… I'm gonna pay those three bullies a lesson. Teach them wha' happens when ya deal with an Easter Bunny."

* * *

**I'm thinking of doing a really quick part 2 to this. Why? Because I feel like the Easter Bunny can confront these three like the BAMF he is! And I'd like nothing more than to practice that sort of thing!**

**What do you think?**

**Oh... whatever. Anyway, stay tuned for more! My next update may be my last long one for a while! SAVOR IT! Or, yunno, don't. Whatever.**

**If you like young Jack idea say yes. If you don't, give your own suggestion. I'll add it to the list. If it's super good then I'll write it as my goodbye for a month long thing!**

**Thanks everyone! You ROCK!**

**P.S. Sorry for any and all bad grammar you might have seen. I checked this twice, but that was my limit. XD I'm like Santa... if he was short, a woman, a Jew and an atheist. So not like Santa... except maybe sort of.**

**YAY SANTA!**

**~Gal**


	21. Bad Guy

**I Am. So. Sorry!**

**What started out as a one month break kinda mutated into two! What happened!?**

**I'll tell you what happened.**

**COLLEGE!**

**That's right! In roughly two months your little author will be packing up and heading off to college! And I am terrified!**

**I hope this chapter and another update out by the end of the week is enough for forgiveness! FORGIVE MEEEE!**

**Thanks to;**

_**Naimena**_

_**Hopefullygoodgram**_

_**markstn41**_

_**Magiccatprincess**_

_**Cayran**_

_**JJ100051**_

**For PMing me and getting me to publush this today! You all are amaaaazing!**

**And a quick shout out to **_**Night-Fury1**_** for being just like Jack and beating up people who deserve it (you're too cool!), **_**the1hobbit**_**, whose review made me blush, and **_**MikoAucarod**_**, whose maniacal laughter left me in stitches for days on end.**

**All my reviewers are amazing, you're all super and this chapter I'm going to try to respond to each and every one of you. You're support is worth more than that! So much effing more!**

**And one more quick apology… **

**This is not the kid Jack chapter. I'll have that up next. This one is something else, and I'll explain to you exactly what and why.**

**ANYWAY! ONTO THE ACTUAL NOTE!**

**So I was writing the rest of the Kid Jack story, when all of a sudden I decided to go through my computer.**

**And I found… this.**

**I don't think I've read a story yet that has my opinion of this character, so I figured it was time I posted it. I had written it so long ago, before Protect was even a story. So I guess this is just a mistake baby kinda thing…? That unplanned thing that just surprises you when you open your documents. **

**It isn't my longest, by far. Though I have some more long stories coming up, trust me. But this one is the one that contains the least amount of dialogue, most of it told through observation. If there are people who get bored easily from that, then this is **_**not**_** the chapter for you! FLEE WHILE YOU STILL CAN!**

**Anyway, this was more of a practice run to make sure that after a TWO MONTH BREAK I still had some creative ability left in me! You decide! And hey, maybe I'll even sway a few of you over to my Man in the Moon hating side!**

**ONTO THE STORY!**

* * *

o0o

_"If you want to forget something or someone, never hate it, or never hate him/her. Everything and everyone that you hate is engraved upon your heart; if you want to let go of something, if you want to forget, you cannot hate."_

~ C. JoyBell C.

o0o

* * *

Man in the Moon was not a bad guy.

Watching over the children of the world, he protected and guided them. He chose warriors to bring to them what they needed most, fueled in turn by what they gave.

Wonder.

Hope.

Memories.

Good dreams and imagination.

He had created them to bring all of this to the children when times allowed them to have nothing. Spreading what already existed, but was hard to find. He did this and more for the children of the world. They were his children, after all. Every single one of them, and he wished no harm upon them.

Only bad people wished harm. He did not. Therefore, he was not a bad person.

Man in the Moon was not a bad guy.

Sanderson Mansnoozie had been first.

Created by the dreams of innocence around him, he'd been placed on the Earth to spread just that. Keeping the dreams of children alive seemed to be the most important element of any life. Even if the dreams were impossible, when asleep a child could do anything. And suddenly, when darkness fell, there was a light behind it to crack open the foreboding door and show children that nothing lay creeping in the shadows.

Man in the Moon wanted to keep their dreams perfect and whole.

Because he was, obviously, a good guy.

When he had created North, who would later take on many forms and names, all of them translating to one singular image, he had done to keep the wonder alive in the eyes of children. It was something to look forward to and savor, and small children, unlike adults, could hardly savor life like a glass of fine wine. They needed the event that made something special. The lights twinkling on trees, snow drifting through the air like frosted sugar, family and home and friends and presents wrapped with precious care.

He brought North to allow the savory taste of Wonder to slither across the roofs of towns. And he did it all because he was a good guy.

After all, Man in the Moon was most certainly not a bad guy.

Toothiana would be next. She collected what she could from where she could, leaving just as much behind. What she received was far more precious. Memories, they found, were far too much like gold. They tarnished, buried, forgotten and often sought after with copious amounts of effort. Gold, though, could bring out the worst in men, leaching from their souls the very ideas of humanity and existence and meaning. Toothiana only ever left one gold coin. But in the end, she returned memories, which brought back what shining and glittering elements could not.

Man in the Moon wanted nothing more than to preserve. Because that was what people of great worth did. And he was a person of great worth.

Not, at all, like a bad guy.

E. Aster Bunnymund was last. Kept alive when his species was slaughtered, the Pooka represented the hope in the world that some never had. He gave the strength to continue, move on, forget and remember. Eternal life and spring even when immortality itself was a concept far beyond the reaches of even him. He was a warrior, a protector, a fierce fighter and a stubborn ally. From the ashes he always found the best, even if his own demeanor was at times foul. And, much like North, he allowed his element to be savored through treats and goodies, even if the rest of it was distributed in silence for the other 355 days.

Man in the Moon wanted hope to be spread. Hope was spread by good guys.

He, Man in the Moon, was a good guy.

Leading his small army of four, he had them defeat darkness. Over and over and over again, pushing it back into corners and underneath beds. They crushed fears and doubts, replacing them with light and hope and wonder and memories. They were there to keep everything and never let it dull. And they did, together, vanquish the evil doer who had, for so long, plagued children with fears beyond dreams and hopes and no return. They had defeated the bad guy.

Pitch was the bad guy.

Man in the Moon was the good guy.

That was just how it was, and how it would, forever, be. The stars intoned it, as did the universe. He was placed there just like he had placed them in their positions. To defend and create and protect. And he did all of it and more because he was a good guy.

Not a bad guy.

And then Jack Frost arrived.

Sinking to the bottom of a frozen lake, the Man in the Moon had found him. He was brave and strong and his heart, though frozen under layers of sluggish blood and cold skin, could beat more than any human could hope. He had saved his sister, as the Man in the Moon had helplessly watched, and gave up his life.

Life was nothing to the immortal Man in the Moon, but he could only assume that to humans it meant more than presents at Christmas Time. And the boy had given it up as easily as handing over a lump of coal.

He would have made a suitable guardian. Maybe not a perfect one. But a suitable one. Pitch would come back. Darkness would drown out the light. They needed another person to help stanch it once again. Why not Jack Frost?

So he'd brought Jack back. Because that's what miracle workers and magicians do. And they were the good guys.

And Man in the Moon, like miracle workers and magicians, was a good guy.

He'd breathed life back, given the boy a name, and then he'd left. Sometimes people needed to figure things out for themselves in order to grow. And Man in the Moon certainly wanted him to grow. So he stayed silent and retreated back into the sky. And after that, he continued to watch.

The first hundred years passed, and Man in the Moon began to question his decision. The boy wasn't exactly was perfect as he had predicted him to be. With bravery and a heart that strong, he should have turned out better. There were no memories, but that hardly mattered. When memories were stripped, the personality was the same. He should have created new memories for himself. Instead, the boy had created a new person.

The second hundred years he was almost sure that he'd made an unwise decision. The boy was a nuisance. He did his job correctly, spreading winter when the seasons commanded it. But that was all he did. There was no love for children, or a longing to protect. He focused far to much on himself, the selfish lad, asking to be seen, noticed, praised, and even sometimes scolded. He got into tussles with the elementals, all of whom had been around long before he ever had.

And to make matters worse, he got in the way of his original warriors.

Sanderson was patient, much to the Man in the Moon's delight and confusion. How anyone could put up with the annoyance was a mystery. But the man did. Not that the Man in the Moon wasn't annoyed himself and had, upon occasion, tried to reason with the small golden man about possibly focusing more on his work then the small pale child. Sanderson had finally given in with a slow nod and saw the boy far less after that.

Man in the Moon was hardly impressed when the Sprite had tried to break into North's workshop.

He was disturbed when the young boy kept the small workers of Toothiana distracted as they watched him far more than doing their work.

And to even discuss what poor E. Aster Bunnymund had to go through… The Rabbit was constantly harassed, annoyed, bothered and poked fun at by the Spirit of Winter. The two clashed far more than anyone could have expected, not that the Man in the Moon was surprised. He had seen the way the boy had behaved. He'd watched him for two hundred years. Hope needn't be wavered just because a small boy and a magic staff steal precious eggs.

Whenever the two had fights Man in the Moon rooted for Bunnymund. He was on his side. The Pooka was, after all, his original child. The boy he had brought back to life, an action he regret more and more every day, deserved every harsh word he received.

Man in the Moon needed to protect his own children, after all, because that was what parents did. And parents were good guys.

And Man in the Moon, like a parent, was a good guy.

It wasn't easy living with his decision to bring the child back. There was no way to reverse the process, not that he'd want to. He was not a bad guy, and only bad guys would go through with such a horrible deed. So he did everything else instead. He'd seen naughty children receive coal from North. The action hardly meant that said child was any less loved, but instead allowed the child to realize their mistakes and redeem themselves later.

Man in the Moon decided to give Jack Frost coal.

There was no way to give it literally, having no access to the block rock. So he gave it as figuratively as he could. Silence, he found, was a great substitute as a temporary punishment. If the boy shaped up his act, like a small child with coal at Christmas, then he'd be given what he asked for.

The boy never shaped up.

And as the years went on, he continued to get worse.

"Please…" The Man in the Moon would often hear, late at night. It was always the Frost child from a roof or tall tree, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Please… can't you tell me who I am… why I'm here?"

The Man in the Moon wouldn't answer. The boy had frozen streets and towers.

The nights went on, as did the silence.

"I want to talk to someone. No one can see me. Please… help me?"

The Man in the Moon wouldn't answer. The boy had made children slip.

The nights continued, as did the punishment.

"… I don't want anything anymore. Just… one good dream… I have nightmares. No one likes me and I have nightmares."

The Man in the Moon wouldn't answer. The boy had broken into workshops, warrens, castles and boxes.

The nights added up, as did the nightmares and the solitude and the days and the years and the centuries.

By the three hundredth year Man in the Moon was sure he'd made the wrong decision, and had decided to never speak to Jack Frost again. It was only suitable. He'd have to reap the seeds he'd sowed. Never once had an improvement occurred, the boy continuing down a quick spiral. 1968 had been a great year to lay the final seal on his decision.

Sometimes, to be the good guy, you had to make tough decisions.

And then Pitch Black had returned.

Slinking back from the shadows like a Spector towards the mist, Darkness had once again emerged. Not even his own light could have stopped the man. And there wasn't enough power to keep nightmares from being reined and saddled.

He'd had to call in Jack Frost.

No one had been particularly happy about it.

And in the end, his years of silence and constant observation only helped to show just how right he had been. The boy was selfish, placing himself before others. Going off to find his memories after they'd keened in the night, losing Easter and plunging the world into potential darkness. There had been a doubt in his mind that he'd been wrong long ago, lingering in the back of his brain and echoing across the milky way.

The final test had been far too tangible to allow doubt to reside any longer.

Good guys always had to know when it was time to let go. He'd let go of Jack, knowing that he'd no longer be needed.

And then something…

… the word was not the easiest to find. Hardly gratifying, not wondrous, slightly unimaginably.

Something _surprising_ took place. Something he could hardly predict.

Jack was getting what he wanted.

Suddenly he was seen. And then praised. And then allowed to join the guardians, of all things. He had hardly allowed that, not that he could put his foot down. Who and who not they gave the oath to was not in his jurisdiction- he'd given up that right as soon as he'd created the individuals. But it shouldn't have occurred.

Jack was greedy, untrustworthy and deserved nothing. And suddenly he was given everything.

And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, the Guardians, one by one, stopped speaking to him.

Sanderson had been the first, turning his back on his own Lunar brother.

Toothiana, scoffing up into the night sky as she flew towards London one night, had not talked since and had left their relationship hanging by a strange silver threat.

North had screamed into the night sky, angry words that made no sense at all. He couldn't do much for the Frost child, nor would he want to. But he had never _hurt_ the boy. And yet the Cossack accused him of doing just that. And then he'd never spoken to him again.

Bunnymund had been last. That had been the strangest of all separations. The Pooka represented hope, and with a snap of his fingers had taken it from The Man in the Moon. He'd stared at the night sky with green eyes, ears erect and fists clenched. He'd looked ready to say something, but it had dissipated and crumbled on the tip of his tongue. And then-

"We don' deserve him, yunno that?"

The Man in the Moon listened.

"Then again, neither d'you." Aster had paused, eyes flickering across craters, eyes reflecting moonlight. "But that's akay. Ya never really did."

The Man in the Moon stayed quiet.

"We all jes' want ya ta know that he's ours. Not yers. Ours."

_But I created him._

Good guys always knew when to take credit for their creations, no matter what they were.

Aster shook his head, as if disgusted by the voice. "Yeah, ya did. And we wanna thank ya for it." He shuffled. "Everything's our fault. But it was yours first. He just wont blame anyone, and we don' wanna blame you. But that's fine." Another angry glare, ears twitching. "But thanks all the same."

And then, after that, he'd never come back to speak to his creator again.

And the Man in the Moon was confused.

They weren't supposed to have the reaction they did. The boy deserved what he had gotten. And he'd apologized to the lad twice for crimes that hardly merited a gesture. Not that the boy had appreciated either. But he'd been cast out. His own creations had cast him aside so easily, bringing the one he'd revived into their life. And for whatever reason, they seemed to protect him…. From the Man in the Moon.

No child needed protection from the Man in the Moon. He was the good guy. Good guys were not ones you kept others from.

And yet…

Sandy ensured the boy received the best dreams he could create- wasting his valuable sand.

North ensured that the boy received all the attention he claimed the child required- though the Man in the Moon _knew_ that he needed far less. It was a waste of the toy maker's valuable time.

Toothiana made certain that whenever he needed it, his memories were accessible- a waste of the Man in the Moon's creation, who was made without memories to become a perfect specimen dictated by bravery and fun and compassion.

And Aster…

The two had clashed before. He'd watched them. They'd hardly shared one moment without a small war breaking out. Yet all of a sudden the Pooka was attached to the boys side. He dolled out protection, guidance, warmth and shelter. It was all from guilt. That was all it could have been, the Man in the Moon had reasoned, and it was a waste of hope.

All of it was a waste.

Watching over the children of the world, he protected and guided them. He chose warriors to bring to them what they needed most, fueled in turn by what they gave.

Wonder.

Hope.

Memories.

Good dreams and imagination.

He had created them to bring all of this to the children when times allowed them to have nothing. Spreading what already existed, but was hard to find. He did this and more for the children of the world. They were his children, after all. Every single one of them, and he wished no harm upon them.

Only bad people wished harm. He did not. Therefore, he was not a bad person.

He was the good guy. He _was_ the good guy. He had created hope and wonder and dreams and light and memories. He had defeated the darkness. He had stanched the nightmares.

He had even given Jack Frost a second chance at light.

Man in the Moon was not a bad guy. He could not be the bad guy.

He just couldn't be…

… Right?

* * *

"Hey, Bunny?"

The Pooka glanced up from the egg he was painting to look at the boy in front of him sitting cross legged on a wooden chair, staring out the window. It was late, and the Sprite should have been in bed. But the storm that had occurred that day by natures own design had left him with too much energy to spare. The meeting that day had left them all exhausted and lagging, the trip there being hard enough itself, and yet a single white haired child seemed to refuse to give in to the call of the Sandman himself. Aster had simply told the others not to worry about it, and that they could all go to bed. He would stay up with Jack until the 'little ankle biter' finally fell prey to sleep, no matter how long it took.

Aster, though he wouldn't say it, refused to leave the boy alone for too long. He didn't want him lonely.

"Hmm…?"

The blue eyes hardly wavered, staring up through crystal panes towards the lunar rock hanging low in the sky. "Why don't you invite Manny to any meetings anymore?"

"What are ya babblin' on about now, Frostbite?"

Jack shrugged. "North used to talk to him more at meetings when I first got here. Now he doesn't. He just kinda ignores him. And Sandy doesn't sign 'moon' anymore." He shrugged again, the hood of his sweatshirt bouncing lightly as he did.

Aster fell silent for a moment. Then he picked the egg back up. "I dunno."

"He still doesn't talk to me." Jack didn't notice when the Pooka flinched. "I try to talk to him, but he doesn't answer."

"What d'ya say?" The question was stiff, the conversation leading to paths Bunnymund would have rather not ventured down. The Moon wasn't really his favorite topic nowadays.

"Sometimes I say thanks, I guess. I still have questions for him."

"Like what?" He painted the same line for the third time, his pattern forgotten.

"Why I was… just… just a lot of why questions." Hope suppressed another wince. The past was still a touchy subject for the newest guardian. And though Aster had been slowly chipping away at the tougher than nails shell, he'd made a dent where hundreds of years subtracted could have already cracked it.

"Oh…" another line painted. "I'm sure you'll get the answer someday, Frostbite. Ask North… he might know."

"Do you think he'll ever answer."

_No_, Aster wanted to say. But he bit hit tongue and shook his head. "I ain't one ta say. He don't talk much though, so I wouldn't be puttin' bets on it."

"You don't talk to him anymore." Jack's eyes finally moved as his head turned towards the anthropomorphic rabbit. The light from the moon shadowed half his face, leaving the other to turn the shade of milk. His head tilted as it did so often, and the frost white hair followed suit, small spikes bending like grass.

Bunny shook his head, looking up, and felt his ears sway. "No. I don't."

"Are you going to?"

His green eyes found the moon for a brief second, then flickered back. "No."

"Why?"

"Shouldn't y' be goin' ta bed 'r somethin'?"

"Why don't you talk to him."

Aster paused once more, and then chuckled. "Remind me never ta' let ya stay up this late again. Yer as stubborn as a rattler, ya are, at this hour."

The boy tilted his chin in the air. "I'm always stubborn."

"Yeh, trust me, I know." He settled back, crossing his broad arms, the egg forgotten altogether. "I jes… don't." A deep sigh, another long glance at the moon. Some part of him wished the moon was listening. "It's just… Some things change over time, I guess. Nothin's really perm'nant. And I thought somethin' was one thing… but it ain't."

Jack furrowed his brow. "That's stupid… what's that supposed to mean!?"

"It means it's bed time."

"Wha- how does that mean that!"

"It just does. March."

"You can't tell me what to-"

"_March!_"

There was some grumbling under cold breath, but Frost did eventually shuffle off the chair, moving towards the door of North's kitchen with heavy steps, Aster stretching in place behind him. The handle squeaked under freezing fingers.

"Hey, Frostbite."

Jack froze in place, glancing back towards his elder. The rabbit stood, arms still crossed, his body blocking the moon from sight. The light etched around him, creating a dull silhouette.

"Yeah?"

"You know that we're here, right? Ya can ask us questions whenever ya want."

There was silence for a moment. And then. "Yeah. I do."

"Good." A nod. "And… you wanna know why I don't talk to the moon anymore?" More silence, deafening. From somewhere in the workshop North snored. The hum of fairy wings as teeth were deposited in a never ending cycle. He advanced, his feet heavy on the floor. "It's cuz I'm happy. That's all."

Wrinkles formed on the pale forehead, mouth turned down. "How-"

"No more questions." He pointed. "Bed." Jack mumbled again, something about dumb answers, and slipped out the door, his near silent feet moving across the carpet and out of the ear shot of even the sensitive ears of a Pooka.

Aster waited until he heard a door click shut, and then he went back and gathered his surprise. With a brush and paints in one hand, a half finished googie in the other, Aster approached the window.

"I wasn't lyin', ya know." He told the moon, who looked down solemnly. "I don't talk t'ya anymore cuz. I'm happy. Happy he's here. We only talk'tya when we needed help, but we don't need it anymore. He asks us, and that's all there is to it. We don' need you anymore." He shrugged. "Keep shinin' in the sky though, he likes you even if we don't. " And with that, he shut the curtains and turned on his heel.

* * *

Jack Frost lay on his bed, spread out, the covers discarded on the floor. He'd gone to sleep far quicker then he'd have liked, wanting to show the stupid rabbit by staying awake until the dawn. He'd hardly lasted ten minutes. Too deep into sleep was he to notice the moonlight shifting across the floorboards, inch by inch, until the moon was able to glance through the large, open windows, towards the previously invisible boy.

He was the reason that the Man in the Moon had been shunned. And yet the boy didn't even realize it had happened.

The Man in the Moon was the good guy. Not some small boy with annoying tendencies, selfish nature and a constant need for attention. The Man in the Moon required hardly anything, simple asking for what he had given back. His nature was humble and reasonable, not like the boy who acted as if he needed everything in the world, receiving it without even having to ask.

The boy was hardly a bad guy. But he was not a good guy either. Not like the Man in the Moon.

So why had things worked out as they had.

A little white later the Rabbit had poked his head into the room. Shuffling in, so as not to wake the child, he'd pressed his cold nose to the even colder brow. The boy moved, but didn't wake, only shifting slightly in sleep. Hope stood by for another minute, watching the Jack Frost, the Man in the Moon's creation, with an expression that could only be labeled as affection. Pure, unwavering affection. And then, with a final soft tussle to the white hair, he walked towards the window.

Paws fell on drapes, as if wanting to close those as well. There was hesitation. And then the paw dropped, leaving the fabric to quiver for a moment, but not to close. The Man in the Moon could still see the boy. And for some reason, he knew the Pooka had intended it to be that way.

And all The Man in the Moon could do was watch from above, unwanted and unneeded.

Which made no sense, because only bad guys were unwanted and unneeded.

And the Man in the Moon was _not_ a bad guy.

Not all all.

* * *

**If you cannot tell that I hate the Man in the Moon by this point… well… most of you should. Yeah… I hated this guy with a passion. Hoped this was a good way to show it!**

**Suggestions are still open! I've been getting some good ones. A few people want to see something with either Jamie or Sophie. I have another chapter coming up about Jack being caught in the desert. And, of course, the SEQUAL TO THE SEASONS! BY POPULAR DEMAND! I mean, my god! I didn't think that one would get such a passionate reaction! **

**DOES EVERYBODY REALLY WANNA SEE BUNNY KICK SOME ASS THAT BAD?!**

**Or is that even a question I should be asking?**

**Toodles! Update by Sunday, latest. Super long chapters coming up! Super excited to get back on the horse!**


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